I've begun writing small busts that the Real Ghostbusters took “in between episodes.” They are about 4 pages, but are episodic. So, I present the first episode : Bust a Move.
In the unusually cold streets of the Party district, Ecto-1 roared past the packed dance clubs, sirens blaring. Within the stark white ambulance, the four Ghostbusters got up to speed with the situation.
So which one is the haunted one? Peter asked to no one in particular.
The one with a crowd outside, Ray answered, not catching how useless his help truly was.
With no bouncer, Winston added. Peter nodded.
So are we gonna have time to get down after the job? Peter wondered, swaying a bit to emphasize his point.
Well see, Peter, Egon calmly replied in his deep voice.
Ray kept his hands on the steering wheel and noticed some commotion around one particular hot spot. He slid his hand across the wheel and brought the shining ambulance to the side of the street. The four Ghostbusters simultaneously opened their doors, to the cheers of the crowds. Ray waved and grinned from ear to ear. Peter grinned slyly and threw his hands up.
No, please, he fake-pleaded. I mean, it is our job. He took a few strides toward a rather attractive woman at the head of the mass. Dont worry, miss, he half-consoled, half-flirted. He almost continued, but he was yanked back to reality with a yelp. He staggered around to see Egon raise an eyebrow in question. I was just calming them down, Peter tried to explain.
But of course, Peter. Now get your equipment on; theres a ghost inside with our name on it. Peter regained his stance and opened the hatch at the rear of Ecto-1. From within, a row of four industrial-looking backpacks slid out. Peter put his arm through one strap and swung it into place. The others mimicked this, each flipping a switch on the side. The nuclear purr of the technology hummed in the background.
Lets bust-a-move, Peter said, expecting laughs. The four lined up, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Here we go again, Winston included as they marched toward the hefty doors. Peter opened one of the tall panels, stepping to the side.
After you, he said for the group. As they filed in, each one nodded. Peter slipped inside as the doors closed behind. It was time to rid Club RHAM of some pesky poltergeist partiers.
The Ghostbusters team stood in place for a few moments, taking in the scenery. Strobe lights flashed across the room, casting shadows of unseen dancers. The sporadic sparks of light made visibility hard enough to dance, let alone shoot at a semi-transparent, flying specter. Hypnotic techno music emanated from a DJ booth along the nearest wall. Tables, mostly tipped over or utterly shattered, ringed the smooth dance floor. A series of catwalks hung from the darkened scaffolding above. Peter shook his head and stepped in front of the line.
I dont know about you guys, but there is something Ive got to do before we get started, he admitted. With that, he stomped over to the DJ booth and reached back over his shoulder. He swung out his neutrona wand, flipping the switch upon its center. Underneath the light, the usually spectacular ion beam looked dull. The stream slammed into the record that was spinning with a bright flash. Fragments of the vinyl flew across the room like Frisbees. The beam disappeared back into the shining tip of the wand. Peter sighed at the newfound silence.
Who listens to this stuff anyway, Winston wondered aloud as he thumbed through a stack of more techno albums. Egon was waving his PKE meter around the entryway, trying to find any jumps in energy. Ray pulled his Ecto-goggles down over his eyes. The dance floor still looked like a rainbow gone mad, but the faint outlines of creatures floated beneath the colors.
Guys, Ray beckoned, Weve got company. Peter and Winston turned to the seemingly empty floor. Winston quietly crept to the hidden staircase nearby, still watching the room. Peter brought his neutrona wand back to attention, popping an eyebrow. Egon also had his wand trained on the dance floor. Ray instructed his comrades.
Heat em up, Ray ordered, gripping his weapon tightly. He flipped a switch on the side. A faint hum rose in the air. Peter and Egon followed suit. BY THE JUKEBOX!!! Three blinding snakes of light poured from the group, wildly flinging around in mid-air. The beams flew to the antique jukebox, gleaming from the advancing radiance. With a sickening twang, the machine ripped to pieces. A ghastly shriek echoed from the same corner. Ray watched as the cobalt spirit floated away. He turned the wand to it, following it like a spotlight.
Suddenly, the metal clatters of footsteps came from the catwalks above them. Winston sprinted across the central way, drawing his weapon. From above, he blasted at all angles around him, letting the stream dance wildly. As it circled, it tore through wires like tissue paper. The pulsating lights below fell to the floor with a glassy shatter. The room wouldve fallen into darkness, but the proton rays shed dazzling light to all corners of the space. Ray still pursued the spook with his beam, almost catching it as it disappeared through a wall. Ray let the button go, his stream dissipating. The others followed. The room blackened. Although it was dark, all of them noticed a particularly hefty ghost fly down the hallway to the bathrooms. Peter took off in a full speed run, his proton pack swaying slightly.
THAT SPUDS MINE!!! He called as he disappeared from view. Nothing else moved. Egon rubbed his chin in curiosity.
I think I know how to pull our friends out of hiding, he proclaimed as he poked at the air with his finger. Ray listened intently.
Peter sprinted along the white tiled hall, occasionally firing a radiant torrent at the sloppy spook. Each missed shot sent usually shiny tiles from the wall, falling to ruins on the floor. Peter finally slid to a stop, judging his shot. He blasted once more. The ray gained ground in seconds, soon tangling the ghoul in a net of ions. Cmon buddy! Lets dance! Peter dared, wrangling the fighting phantom with his beam. Finally, he unhooked a small box and slid it across the floor to the struggling spook. He dropped the foot pedal next to him. He waited for the box to stop and stomped the pedal. White brilliance poured from within the box, pulling the spirit inside its metal body. Peter let go of the button, his ray disappearing. The box closed, smoke lightly floating from it. He reached down and pulled the trap back. He hung it on his belt and spun around. Techno music echoed to him once more. Not again
he muttered as he strode back to the main room. He stepped into view.
Ghosts of every size and color congregated around the darkened dance floor, spinning about. Peters jaw dropped. Suddenly, two beams slashed across the air, sending the ghosts into a frenzy. A familiar small box lowered from above, swinging faintly. It opened, releasing blinding energy. The crowd was pulled toward the metal trap, stretching comically. Peter shrugged and let his own neutrona wand fill the party with ions. Soon, the three beams herded the group into its new home, the doors of the ghost trap closing. The beams vanished. Peter hurried into the empty room. Winston reeled the trap from above, laughing with success. Ray and Egon smiled from within the DJ booth. Peter also grinned with triumph.
Now lets put on some real music, he said, marching to the booth. After pushing a few black records aside, he dropped one onto the turntable, sliding the needle in place. The Ghostbusters theme screamed from the speakers. Club Venkman is open, Peter pronounced as he opened the doors to the overjoyed mobs outside.
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