Part One
Original Story By Iain Bennett
Adapted and Updated with his permission by Ben King and Fritz Baugh
Fall 1973
He stared at the large buildings in awe, Columbia University, world reknowned and one of the best in the country.
"Wow..." Peter breathed, taking in the architecture of the buildings in the leafy, expansive campus. Like Peter, there were hundreds of students who were new arrivals at Columbia. As Peter glanced around he saw plenty of trail-offs from High School: people laughing out loud, girls chatting, and even one poor guy getting bullied by, Peter was just about to walk over to see what was happening fully when a figure stood up on a bench.
"May I have your attention please!" A voice shouted. "Thank-you, in a few minutes the welcoming assembly will be begining with a speech from the Dean, after that you will be issued your accomondation keys and then you will be free to explore the campus. Thank you!" The man finished and stepped down from a stone bench, he walked over to a set of wood and glass double doors and grasped the brass rail, he then opened the door and the large crowd of students, including Peter started to swarm into the main building of Columbia University.
Pete shuffled through the doors, a beautiful blonde walked past him, and Pete just couldn't help following her with his eyes. "Maybe this place isn't so bad after all!" he thought.
The welcoming speech from Dean Vanevar Yeager was about to start and Peter was late for it.
"Welcome to Columbia University!" said the Dean, "First off, it's great to see so many new faces, and so many old ones as well! I can tell that this year will…"
The doors to the lecture room burst open and a young man sprinted in.
"Well, well, well, and who do we have here?" Yeager asked.
"Pete Venkman sir!" Replied the boy.
"Peter Venkman. Well. Well congratulations on your first impressions here. Why, pray tell, were you late?"
Pete was nervous, but this was new territory, and with new territory came new material!
"Well sir, you've seen the girls round here, I was a bit, um, tied up!"
The entire hall roared with laughter, all except Dean Yeager, Pete was feeling pretty good, people knew him now!
"Well, well, we have a clown do we? I warn you Mister Venkman, do not cross me!" Yeager's face contorted with rage, fire practically danced in his eyes, Peter felt as small as he could do, he had just been humiliated in front of his future colleagues. And worse, in front of future dates! "Sit down Venkman, and for the love of God, be quiet!"
"Yes sir…"
Every chair in the hall, was full, there was only one left, an aisle seat on the back row. Pete walked over, his shoulders hunched. He slumped down onto the chair, he felt like he could crawl into a hole and die. Next to Pete there was another eighteen-year-old, he was wearing a white Notre Dame cap and jeans. The kid leaned over to Pete.
"Boy, you really got on the wrong side of Yeager fast, huh?" the boy chuckled in a Southern drawl.
"Tell me about it!"
"Ryan Harness--Pleased ta meet ya, Peter Venkman."
"Same."
"So what are you taking?" Harness asked him
"Taking?"
"What classes?"
"Oh, joint Parapsychology and Psychology, you know, the easy A!" Venkman responded with a smirk that reminded Harness of the cheshire cat.
"Hey! Me too! What teacher have you got?"
"Um, Doctor Thompson, I think!"
"Me too! Wow, looks like we're in the same class!"
"Cool!"
"I'm sorry--Mr. Venkman?" roared Dean Yeager, "I do hope that I'm not boring you?"
"No sir, not at all!" Said Peter.
"Well then maybe I can continue…"
Yeager usually had a good sense of intuition, and he could tell that Venkman would bring him no end of trouble, he was sure of it! Venkman would have to be watched!
The welcoming seemed to last forever to Pete, and he was very glad when it was over! Pete and the other freshmen had each been ordered to report to the admin office, here they were supposed to receive the number and key of their dormitory.
God, what an officious prick. Probably thought of himself as high and mighty too. Peter thought as he got up, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. Within ten minutes he was standing in line for a key to his new lodgings.
"Next!" The Berser yelled and Peter stepped up to the window. "Name?"
"Venkman." Peter replied.
"Okay Venkman, you're in Room 13, Johnson Hall. You're roomates with Spengler." The Berser informed.
"Spengler? That some kind of radio?" Peter asked, the Berser cast him a glare.
"Oh...I can see you're gonna fit in just fine here...NEXT!" Peter held the key in his hand for a few moments, staring at it.
Oh well...might as well make a good impression. Peter thought and moved off in the direction of Johnson Hall.
"Well," Said Ryan, "I guess I'll be seeing you!"
"Yeah," Replied Pete, "I'll see you in class tomorrow!"
With that Ryan and Pete went their separate ways, each heading for the room in which they would be spending the next few years of their life.
Venkman came up to room thirteen, and opened the door to find a kid who looked to him to be no older than sixteen, though maybe tall for his age, sitting beside a huge stack of books. The boy had the wierdest haircut he'd ever seen, and glared at him with disapproval through his eyeglasses. Probably my roomy's little brother or something...
"What are you doing here?" the boy asked him in a surprisingly deep voice, setting the Twinkie he was eating down on the table next to him.
"Room thirteen, Ziggy?" he asked the boy. Venkman had been in a habit of giving people nicknames his whole life, and somehow "Ziggy" just popped in there.
"That is correct."
"Then I live here. Pete Venkman--your brother or whoever around?"
" 'Live here'...this must be a mistake." The boy growled, his face contorting with growing disdain. "They said I'd be roomed with an upperclassman...crumbs..."
The boy stood up and shook Venkman's hand warily. "It appears that we are stuck together, Mister Venkman, at least until I can get someone in the administration to straighten this out."
"You're losing me here, Ziggy..."
"I am your roomate. Egon Spengler"
Venkman laughed. He couldn't help it. " 'Egon Spengler'? Is that your real name or did you get that from an episode of that Star Trek show a few years back?" It was just about the funniest name he'd ever heard.
"This coming from a man who's surname is derived from a term for vermin..." Spengler retorted. "Ugh, I meant why did you come to this university?"
"Oh! Well, I kind of want to be a game show host, but they said I needed a degree!"
"And what are you taking?"
"Parapsychology and Psychology."
"Parapsychology? Fascinating..." Venkman noticed the kid's expression seem to soften ever so subtely. Not one of the expressive types...and man, does he look younger than he should, even as tall as he is...
"Yeah, what of it?" Venkman replied warily
"It seems that we have a mutual interest in one of your subjects!"
"Well...I really only chose it because it seemed like an easy course." Peter replied. This guy for real? Did he just seem to perk up when I mentioned my classes?
"Oh." Egon's eyes seemed a little dissapointed behind his red glasses. "Well...welcome to Columbia University. You better have brought a week's worth of clothes." Egon said, getting up from his bed.
"Why?" Peter asked.
"Because if you don't have what it takes...you won't last a week." Egon replied.
"Ouch." Peter replied, he then dove into his backpack and started to fish out his personal things, several non-lecture books which were written by his favourite authour: Dewey LeMorte, a lamp, a rare photogarph of the entire Venkman clan together, and an alarm clock. Peter paused before he pulled out the last personal effect, a silver lighter with a green four-leaf clover painted on the side. Peter gripped the familiar object in his hand before he stuffed it into his pocket, a few minutes later Spengler returned with a plastic box. "Lunch?" Peter asked.
"No...spores." Egon replied dryly, he then pulled the lid off of the box and placed it by the window, Peter hazarded a glance into the box, and quickly drew away.
Gross "That a science experiment?" Peter asked.
"No...my hobby." Egon replied, he then placed a legal pad with long scrawls of writing and times next to the box.
"That's your hobby?" Peter asked in disbelief.
"Yes...I collect spores, moulds and fungus." Egon explained quickly.
"Gee...great." Peter said, he then reached into his bag and pulled out several textbooks. Some of them psychology, others on parapsychology and a select few on science and spirits that he'd been happy with being able to bring in without being seen. Egon looked at the books, and then turned away.
"Aren't you going to ask?" Peter asked, almost expecting probing questions into his selection of textbooks.
"Why? What a person likes is his own business, no-one can tell him what he can and cannot like." Egon replied. For some reason, that made Peter feel a little bit better. Alright...maybe this guy isn't completely stuffy...maybe get him a little loosened up in the nearest watering hole... Peter thought.
"Thanks." He replied. "I guess you wouldn't know the hot spot where everybody on campus goes to?" Peter asked.
"You think because I have an interest in fungus that automatically means I don't know where everybody goes to when they go out? You would be right." Egon said with a smile. "It's a bar...Benny's, I don't really bother going, just follow the big group of football players, they'll lead you right to it." Egon replied.
"Thanks." Peter said, he then deposited his keys in his pocket and stood up and walked to the door, pausing to glace at Egon for a moment. "This symester should be fun." Peter grinned and left.
Egon sighed; this wasn't the best day of his life.
Egon Spengler sat back down to finish his cup of tea. It was rather ironic, thought Egon, that he had been placed in room number thirteen, and had he often wondered whether it was some joke played on him by the admin officers.
Now he knew it had been a bad joke
Egon HAD been at the welcoming ceremony, he wasn't quite sure why he had turned up; he'd come here to learn, not to socialize with the common rabble. And then some jackass had decided on having a battle of wits with the Dean. Most found it highly amusing, Egon, on the other hand, did not.
And now he had to share a room with the jackass.
This is just not fair... he mused bitterly.
Scott Jackson lay in bed, contemplating the day's events. He was twenty, but was good friends with Dean Yeager; in fact Yeager was Scott's uncle. The two had what you might call an understanding. Scott was The Dean's eyes and ears around the campus; he would keep an eye on troublemakers. And right now, his attention was turned towards Peter Venkman, an obvious delinquent. Yeager had made it quite clear that Venkman was to be watched very closely!
"Yes…" Muttered Scott, "I'll watch him very carefully!"
"Eeegon..." the voice called, leering and pregnant with malice. "Where are you? It's time to play..." And then...he was there, his giant face grinning, eyes bulging with horrific glee...his hand reaching for him...
Egon awoke in a violent sweat; he had been having the nightmare. Again.
"Easy Egon…" He said to himself. "It was just a nightmare, there is no way on Earth that he could get you here."
Egon looked over to Pete. He was fast asleep. Egon contemplated going back to sleep, but it occurred to him that it might be a good idea to check what time it was.
"Seven Fifteen?" Egon yelled.
"What you say?" Groaned Pete.
"I said it's quarter past seven, we're going to be late for our first lecture!"
"Seven fifteen? Still practically the middle of the night..." Pete muttered, pulling himself out of his bed.
Contrary to Egon's preconceptions, they arrived at the lecture early, so early in fact that the only other person there was Ryan.
"Hey!" Yelled Ryan, waving at Venkman "Over here Pete!"
"Morning Ryan!" Replied Peter.
Peter and Egon walked over.
"Yo, Pete, who's this?"
"Oh, this is Egon, my room mate!"
"Egon...pleased to meet ya...'
"Nice to meet you." Said Egon, extending his hand to Ryan.
From behind the lecture hall door, Scott Jackson watched on, an evil sneer crossed his face…
The lecture hall didn't fill up much, in fact, aside from Pete, Egon and Ryan; there were only three other students. Prof. Thompson stood in front of a projector, ready to start his lecture.
"Good Morning Class…" Said the professor, "I'm Professor John Thompson, and I will be your parapsychology lecturer. Now if you will all take out your books, I will begin with the basics of parapsychology."
Thompson set up a projector and turned it on, the screen behind him lit up.
"Now, the first thing you need to know, is what parapsychology is. Can anybody tell me?"
Egon raised his hand, eager to impress.
"Yes, err, what's your name?"
"Egon Spengler, Sir, parapsychology is the study of anything that cannot or will not be explained by conventional science methods…"
"Let me tell you one thing right here: call me Dr. Thompson. Or even John. None of this 'Sir' stuff. Continue"
"Um...yes..." Egon looked nonplussed for a second, then cleared his throat and continued. "Contrary to popular belief, this does not include only the subject of ghosts, but phenomenon such as ESP, telekinesis, the theory of Atlantis, mythical creatures and other unexplained events."
Thompson cocked an eyebrow "All of you take note of Mr. Spengler, he is an A grade pupil!"
Peter leaned over to Egon, who was red with pride.
"Well, looks who's teacher's pet!" Said Pete
"Now, then…" continued Thompson, "The first module of the course is spectral entities…"
After the class, Egon had gone back to the dorm and Peter had gone to sample the "atmosphere" at Benny's. Three hours later, he stumbled back obviously drunk.
"You knowsh Spengs...Spengs...," Peter tried to get Egon's name out. "Y're weird sometimsh...Hell...I donsh even knowsh you...but you...are also an alright guy!" Peter said, gesturing at him wildly with his mostly empty bottle of Budwieser.
"Glad to know." Egon muttered, he then deposited Peter on the his bed, he now was completely out. "Enebriated. If you'd drank anymore, you'd probably qualify for Tri Kuppa Bru's short list." Egon mused. He then watched the sleeping form of Peter Venkman for a few minutes. "Welcome to Columbia University Peter Venkman, you have passed the first test." Egon said quietly before he prepared himself for bed.
Peter sniffed and was suddenly awake. A mechanical clock ticked away quietly to itself over by Egon's empty and neatly laid out bed.
"I am glad to see you are awake." A voice said, then a coffee cup appeared in view.
"Wha...what time is it?"
"It is 8:15AM, 45 minutes before your first class." Egon replied, handing Peter the cup. Peter took it gratefully and drank from it. "And, if you want to give a good impression, you might want to change your shirt." Egon said, he then walked over to his desk and picked up a pile of books.
"Where are you going?" Peter asked.
"Library, I've got some studies to do." Egon replied. "I'll see you later." Egon said, he then walked over to the door and opened it, then a few minutes later it closed.
Peter's head dropped back down on the pillow, but it shot up again. He downed the rest of the coffee and stared at his clothes, he could keep the jeans and maybe even the socks, but the shirt had to go, it was a mixed concoction of alcohol, sweat...and Peter had the slightest suspicion that there was the hint of vomit. It only took Peter ten minutes to change and get a quick breakfast, another two and the light stubble on his chin was gone. He then gathered his books and went for the door.
"Yo Venkman! Nice contest last night, will we be seeing you again?" A voice shouted, Peter had a dim memory of seeing the guy the previous night at Benny's.
"Yeah...sure thing!" He shouted. The guy nodded, joined a group of football players and vanished down one of the man pathways of the campus. Peter finally entered the building that had the cafeteria and he joined the line in waiting, he grabbed a tray and as the line progressed, he stacked food that caught his fancy, which wasn't a lot.
Looks like the junk food mentality is enforced at University. Peter thought. As Peter made his way across the cafeteria, a hand snagged his arm. Peter looked down. There was one of the only faces from last night that he had a name for.
He saw Ryan, and was moving towards his table when another hand grabbed him.
"Come on Venkman, we've got a space here." It was the same guy from the night before. Barry...that's his name...
"Hey Barry, what's up?" Peter asked.
"Nothing much...just talking about last night." Barry replied.
"Well, I wish you'd tell me. I can't remember."
"Haha! That's a good one Venkman!" Barry clapped Peter on the back, though Barry thought is was a joke, Peter had been serious, however he replied with a grin.
Peter sprinted across campus at a speed, he was late. A stone bench quickly approached, Peter vaulted over the bench and windmilled his arms to stop from toppling, doing this as he continued to run. There was a large grouping of people at a door into the Pyschology Building. Peter swung his body sideways and passed through the gap in one fluid motion.
"HEY!" A voice shouted, Peter ignored it. The door to the Psychology Hall loomed, the last people were making their way in. Peter then slid one foot foward and slid the remaining distance, his sneaker holding the door just before it closed.
"I'm glad to see that the last of us arrived before the door locked." The lecturer said a few people laughed and Peter shook it off with a grin. He then found a seat and sat down at it.
When Psychology class ended, Peter walked along the hallway back the way he'd come.
"Hey!" The voice called again, it was gruff...and it belonged to a man in a pair of tracksuit trousers and a white T-Shirt, a whistle hung around his neck and there was a blue cap on his balding head, completing the high-school Coach look. "I want to talk to you..." He said.
"I didn't do anything." Peter said.
"Yes, you did. You got moves, ever think about playing football?" The Coach asked, Peter could imagine the guy chomping down on the end of a cigar.
"No..." Peter replied.
"Well you should, we could use a player like you." The coach said. "Try-outs start in two months, don't forget." As if to emphasis the fact, the coach stuck a sheet of paper on a nearby noticeboard, as soon as he'd left a few people were signing their names on the sheet.
"Come on, Venkman, the way you sprinted across campus was faster then some of the existing team." Barry had appeared from nowhere.
"I don't know...I've only been here a day."
"Come on, if you don't like it then drop it...it's not like Coach Vorhees is gonna force you with a shot-gun." Barry signed down his name and then held the pen out to Peter, he stared at it for a few minutes, shrugged and took it. He then wrote his name down on the sheet.
"There ya go Slim." Barry said.
"Slim?" Peter asked.
"Well, there's no way someone my size could have made that gap between the Coach and the door."
"Slim Venkman." Peter said, it seemed okay.
"You got anything next?" Barry asked as they left the building.
"Nope...free period." Peter replied.
"Same here, fancy going down to Benny's?" Barry asked.
"Sure." Peter replied.
Benny's was really just a gloriefied bar with Columbia U memorabilia. Photos and University football team shirts adorned the walls. There was also a jukebox and the lighting was moody. For all intents and purposes it was the usual hangout for Columbia's jocks and students who wanted a decent place to drink which was a short walk from the main campus.
Barry pushed the metal bar on the steel door and allowed loud music to spill out onto the street. One other thing Benny's was infamous for...was supposedly making one guy go deaf from the noise.
The main layout was a based on a 50's diner, the bar along one wall with metal stools flagging the customer side, along the outer walls below the windows were booths where at least a good chunk of the student body of Columbia had hung out at one time or another. Above each booth was a stained-glass lampshade and on the table was a small tray containing salt, peper and a menu.
"Hey guys!" Barry called to a group of people sitting in one of the booths near the back of bar, half of them sported football jackets which bore their seperate names. "I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine. Meet Slim Venkman."
"Slim eh?" One of them asked.
"Yep, you should have seen him dodge Vorhee's fat ass, man he was blocking most of the door but my man here managed to dodge past him." Barry explained.
"Well, looks to me like we've got ourselves a new member." The guy replied. He then gestured for Barry and Peter to take a seat at the booth. "What's your first name?"
"Peter..." Peter answered.
"Welcome Pete, as Barry may or may not have told you...we're Columbia's football team, we don't usually allow freshmen...however we're willing to make exceptions. We're all members of Tri Kuppa Bru--you might have heard of us."
"I've heard of some of the things you've done." Peter replied.
"Good, then you'll understand that we're big on jokes. Tell you what, we'll make a...initiation for you to come into Tri Kuppa Bru." Peter's mind tossed, he was only just getting used to his current lodgings.
"I'm not sure...I'm still new here."
"Fair enough, just let us know when you're settled in and we'll arrange it. I can see a good future for you here Pete." The jock laughed.
Egon and Ryan listened attentively as Dr. Thompson was finishing his lecture. Venkman, having spent too much time out with the football team getting drunk the night before, was almost fully asleep.
"Now class… I appreciate that this is the first week, but I'm setting you your first coursework."
"Aw man," moaned Peter.
"What are you talking about?" Asked Egon, "This is great!"
"You have a weird definition of great, Spengs..."
"Okay then," Said Thompson, "What I want you to do is to choose any aspect of Ghosts to do a report on, I trust you all know the standard form of coursework! I want you in groups of four or three.
"So…" Said Ryan, You lot want to work together?"
"Yeah, s'pose…" Said Pete.
"Well then it's settled!"
Egon, Pete and Ryan sat on a bench in the university's grounds.
"So, what are we going to do our project on?"
"Why don't you ask Egon?" Said Pete, "He seems to be the brain behind the outfit!"
Egon just glared for a few seconds
"Egon?"
"Well," remarked Egon "I suggest we study the effects of a spectral presence, on the temperature of the environment."
"If that's the way to go…" Said Pete, half-heartedly.
"Great!" Cried Ryan, "So when do we start?"
"This weekend. I have an idea."
"Egon!" Shouted Peter, "When I took Parapsychology I did not bank on spending the weekend in a cold and very damp Fort!"
They had pulled up outside an old Virginian Fort, it had been wrecked for years, and everyone knew that it was supposed to be haunted.
The students looked in awe at the wreck in front of them. Pete had had very little sleep the night before, and had been up extremely early in the morning.
"I'm telling you Egon! I am NOT spending the weekend here!"
"How the hell did you get me into this?"
Peter sat on a stool in the dank hall of the fort, the scientific equipment unpacked; Egon was already setting it up.
"This is not how I pictured my weekend!" Pete screamed.
"Ach, come on Pete…" Ryan walked over to Pete and put a hand on his shoulder, "It's a chance to touch the other plane!"
"The only plane I want to touch is a plane back home!"
"Now," Said Egon, "I think we're ready to start!"
"Wonderful!" Said Pete, sarcastically.
"Ok then, this hall is where the ghost of an old army captain is said to roam. We will be measuring temperature through the night, we're looking for rapid drops."
"Ok, Egon, I get that, but what are all the other machines for?" Ryan asked.
"Well, we have the digital thermometers…"
"Yeah…"
"Digital clocks…"
"Right…"
"And over here are devices for measuring energy and classifying it."
"Ah, gotcha."
"With everything set up, all we have to do is wait." Egon summarized.
"Right…. Well then, now that everything is set up, who wants some vodka?" Pete grinned and pulled a rather large bottle of Vodka out of a box.
"Peter." Retorted Egon, "You are, if I'm not mistaken, only eighteen years old--it is not only unprofessional for you to be consuming alchohol, it is technically illegal."
"Suit yourself…I had to cancel a date with the head cheerleader to sit in this drafty old dump, so I want some enjoyment out of this...Ryan?"
Ryan sighed and shook his head. "Ahh, well, um, maybe it would be best if I didn't, you understand!"
"Fine, all the more for me!"
And with that, Pete took a swig out of the bottle.
"WHOA!" That's good stuff!"
Egon shook his head in disdain.
Five hours later it was ten past eleven; the students had encountered no joy.
"You know Egosh, Ish could tell thaaa mesh n you were gonna beesh gooood friensh, right from the firsh time Ish shaw you! All I need to do ish find you a woman...get you laid...like that idea, Shpengsh?""
"Peter, you're drunk!" Replied Egon.
Pete sat on his stool, rocking back and forth, he was completely intoxicated, the bottle of Vodka lay on the floor bone dry.
"No Ish not... Grunted Pete,
Pete sat on his stool, rocking back and forth, he was completely intoxicated, the bottle of Vodka lay on the floor bone dry.
"Ach, Ish fell shick! Ach"
Pete doubled over and began to vomit, violently, Pete pulled his head up, his eyes blood shot and his mouth covered in puke.
"Well, Egosh, Ryne, I feel…. Goosh Night!"
Suddenly Pete toppled backwards off his stool and lost consciousness
"Idiot…" Remarked Egon.
"He'll be ok, he'll just have one giant migraine when he wakes up." Ryan chuckled. "He has to be on Tri Kuppa Bru's short list..."
"Actually, from what I understand, yes. He is."
The digital thermometer was beeping rapidly. On the screen the number decreased rapidly. Egon ran over to his machines.
"Fascinating. There's a rapid drop in temperature!" Remarked Egon.
"Whoa…" muttered Ryan, "Something doesn't feel right here!"
By the doorway a white mist floated in; Egon and Ryan stood up, looking at it. Each of them was speechless. Egon's machines beeped rapidly. The white mist floated up to Ryan.
"Egon…. Help…" Whispered Ryan. Ryan's face showed nothing but fear, the white mist floated in front of him, as if inspecting him.
"Don't move!" Whispered Egon.
"Easy for you to say!"
The mist seemed to loose interest in Ryan, and floated over to Pete's unconscious body, it hovered for a moment, before disappearing.
"Well..." said Egon, the closest to smiling Ryan'd ever seen him. "I think that's enough field work for this weekend, shall we err, go?"
"Sounds like a good idea!" Replied Ryan.
Venkman snored loudly.
"We shall have to carry Venkman to the car, however." Egon stated.
"We could just leave him here..."
Ryan Harness created by Andy Harness
Legal Stuff that's Boring Unless You're Louis Tully...
Ghostbusters is©1984 Columbia Pictures. Ghostbusters 2 is ©1989 Columbia Pictures The Real Ghostbusters is ©1986 Columbia Pictures Television and DiC Productions. No use of characters and images associated with the above is intended for profit, or to challenge the copyrights of the above holders.
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