AN:3/ I don't own Beetlejuice NOR do I make any money off this story. The only thing I may lay claim to is the plot and maybe some OCs... anyway..ON WITH THE SHOW!
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Betelgeuse.
Three years.
Betegeuse peered into a compact mirror that he'd pilfered on a job about two centuries ago in Yokapatawa county. The compact actually had some great history behind it, having belonged to some old broad with a rose. However, that was not of importance. The image in the compact was the big shocker.
No way. He grinned and polished his ragged nails on the lapel of his pinstriped coat. After all of this time? Well, granted for a ghoul three years wasn't a lot, but in the human world it was. Loads could change there in such a small amount of time and that's why the place amused him. It never got boring.
It was the exact opposite of the Neitherworld where he was forced to spend two years, two frigging years seated next to a Witch Doctor (minus the fucking chipmunks) and a mute, with nothing to do except twiddle his yellowed red-tipped thumbs. They might as well have made him take a bath again! Speaking of which, he sniffed his armpits and checked his breath. They would've sent a skunk reeling...
Perfect.
Betelgeuse.
Twice! She said it twice! He rubbed his hands together gleefully. Oh, what he had in store for when he was free! All of the pranks and mischief..he'd pitched an awful fit about thirteen months in because he hadn't pulled anything. Plus, the visitors weren't helping with his withdrawl. "Fuck you, Puck." He muttered. The damned pixie on his trips to the Neitherworld would never fail to regail Beej with his tales of chaos. Loki was even worse because he was down there more often.
High and mighty Loki was Juno's new assistant. Truthfully, Beej knew that the old bat was just a cougar and the unpaid intern thing was office lingo for 'blowjobs on the job'. Talk about 'on the job' training. Sheesh.
He tapped his foot. "Any time now, sweetcheeks." He peered closer at the image in the mirror. Normally, he would be able to see a faint ectoplasmic aura in the background that would be the residue of energy from Barbara and Adam. Yet..there was nothing. He brushed it off, oh well, it wasn't any of his business. Why should he care?
Beej could see that she'd grown up a bit. What was she back then..fourteen? Fifteen? Hmm, she had to be at least eighteen by now. She wasn't wearing that veil at the moment, either. Maybe she'd outgrown- he saw a flash of black roses and a bed draped with a dark purple bedspread- guess not.
Betelgeuse.
"It's SHOWTIME!" There was a flash of smoke, the stink of liquified rotten eggs, and a whiff of spoiled meat. The roadhouse was empty once again.
Lydia had decided that there was only one thing to do. After all, a girl can only take so much stress. With the Maitlands gone, she'd had to deal with her parents all by herself for the past six months. She'd begun to lose her mind, honestly, she thought that she'd fall back into the state of wanton self-destruction she'd harboured up until she met the Maitlands.
The Maitlands, as much as they loved the house and Lydia, had decided to move on. She could understand their reasoning. What kind of person would want to be cooped up in a house for more than a century? Her parents weren't exactly thrilled with the news. As far as they were concerned, the Maitlands were their only defense against a certain fast-talking ghost with the most.
So far, she'd deal with even him as long as it meant escaping her parents' droll normal lives. She loved them, of course, but in the same way that people tend to love the ones who drive them completely insane. So she drew a deep breath and said his name for the final time. "Betelgeuse!"
"Hello, darlin'. Didja miss me?" A familiar drawl called from behind her. She whipped around to see a pin-striped, gaunt rabbit hovering in mid-air. Wait, she squinted at it, rabbits didn't have black and white horns protruding from their skulls. And they definitely didn't have snake-shaped tongues, either.
"B-" He shot her a warning glare. "What in the world are you doing?" She asked in disbelief. "You look like a rabbit that Stein from Soul Eater stiched together from some spare parts!"
"Mhhmm." He transformed into his human form and rubbed his stomach. "Soul Eater? Is that a restuarant?" He grinned ferally. "Think you could get your old pal hooked up with a booth there?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose. Damnit, she'd forgotten what a pain this guy was! Still infinitely better than listening to a lecture about the importance of scupture angles for an hour, though. "Nevermind." She eyed him warily and noticed something was off. Gone was the greeny-blue mold and the patches of graveyard dirt, his hair was no longer clumped together with grease and dirt, either. "You're clean." She blurted out rudely. He grinned and she cringed when she saw his greenish teeth. "Well, kinda."
He scowled and conjured up a cigar. "Yeah, kid, don't remind me." He bit off the end and lit the stogie up with a snap of his fingers. "Turns out, being eaten by a sandworm was considered part and parcel of my punishment. Usually ghosts don't survive sandworm attacks, so it was basically an execution."
She thought about this for a moment. "So, it was like when they give out the death penalty, but the law says that if it is carried out, but the prisoner comes back to life, then he will have technically served his debt to society?" Lydia looked him over. "But what does that have to do with ghostly hygiene?"
He grinned proudly. "Sandworm spit me back up, I guess I didn't taste too good because of the grime."
She made a face. "Yuck."
He laughed riotiously. "Yep, so once Junebug realized that I'd made it through the punishment for my 'crime'," he put air quotes around the word crime."she decided that she'd love to torture me s'more. She told me that since it was my dirt that'd saved me, my dirt had to go just in case I did something else in the future that would warrent death-by-muth'r-fuckin'-sandworm." He smirked at her and she blushed involuntarily.
"Righto." He reclined in mid-air. "So, babes, where's tweedledumb and tweedlebitch?" He waved a hand and a margarita glass appeared with a live worm wriggling at the bottom. "Shouldn't they be in here already and freakin' out or somethin'?" His voice transformed into Barbara's. "Lydia Marie Deetz, how could you do this to us?!"
She mumbled an answer and crossed her arms. He summoned up an ear trumpet. "Say that again, babes, couldn't quite hear ya."
"I said 'they're gone'. " She snapped harshly. "They moved on, you know..." She waved her arms around over her head. "Up there."
"Ooooh," He pursed his lips. Literally, his lips became a Gucchi clutch. She raised an eyebrow at him, unamused as he literally unbuttoned his lip."You want me to get 'em back?"
She stared at him in awe. "You can do that?"
He made a smug little noise and slurped up the worm along with the last of his drink. "Urp...Come on, babes, you're talking to the Ghost with the Most, here! I can do anything." He paused. "Well, I can as long as they're waiting to get checked in with . From what I hear, those waiting lines are a little slice of Hell in Heaven. They're backed up like a gas station toilet after a burrito convention."
She made a disgusted face, but couldn't stifle a giggle. Still, something nudged the back of her mind and she became more than a little suspicious. "Wait a minute, aren't you angry?"
"Whuh?" He raised an eyebrow at her and rolled his eyes. "Oh, naaawww." He waved a dismissive hands. "Holding a grudge is too much work, babes. Like I always say, keep your past...and your gas...behind you because that way it'll have a harder time catching up with you."
"That easy, huh?" She said, still not entirely conviced. "Water under the bridge?"
"And all the way downstream, babe. No worries. Although, if you want me to try to bring the twits back, then you'd have to do something for me." He polished his fingernails on his lapel. "A real deal and all that jazz. No backing out this time, you know."
"Could you please stop calling them names?" She glared hard at him and he laughed, unaffected. Lydia considered his offer hard, though. If he could do as much as he insinuated perhaps..? "No, I don't want you to force them back here. They're going to be much happier where they're headed. I could never compromise their afterlives just because I'm too selfish to let them go."
His expression turned peevish. "Well, then, what th' hell didja call me for? I got places to be, people to emotionally compromise. I'm a busy guy, babes. When I pop up, somethin' goes down. Got that?"
Never, ever in a million years would she admit that she'd only called him because she was lonely. Pride was not something she would lay down for a disgusting, perverted poltergeist. Although, as much as she despised herself for it, she didn't want him to leave so soon. So she thought up a plan and oh, it was childish. She knew it was, but she simply couldn't turn down the temptation to finally get revenge. A bigger person would let everything go, but Clare had had this coming to her for years. She deserved it. It might even teach her a lesson. "What would you want from me if I asked you to...erm..say...pull something?"
He smiled like the lecher he was. "I'll pull anything you want me to pull, babes. Just..ahem..say the word." He licked his hand and slicked back his wild hair.
"You know that's not what I meant." For some reason, his antics didn't really bother her as much as she'd thought they would. Beetlejuice was crass and crude and definitely perverted, but she wasn't unnerved. "I want to get back at someone."
He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Alright! Now you're talking my language. Leave it to me, Lyds, just tell me who the sucker is!"
She felt guilty already. Hadn't she always told herself to take the higher road? Now she was taking advantage of her situation. Then she remembered the incident from earlier in the day-
It was right after third period English and she'd gone to her locker to get her science books. As soon as she opened it up, a small square of paper fluttered to the tile floor. She picked it up curiously. It definitely wasn't from one of her friends.
Dear Lydia,
I always thought you were really something, but I was kinda afraid to tell you because of what other people thought. Now that we're about to graduate, I realized that it doesn't matter what others think. I don't care about the creepy goth stuff, I just want to get to know you better. If you feel the same way about me, meet me in the auxillary gym at 3:30.
Love, Cody D.
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her skull. Cody Dillon was the guy she'd been drooling over since freshman year! Sure, he was great-looking, but he also had a sweet nature. He was very smart and blew the image of the sterotypical jock right out of the water. She didn't hesitate in her decision to stay after school.
When the final bell had rung, she'd ran to the bathroom to fix her hair and make-up. Her eyeliner always feathered a little over the school day and she wanted to look her best. She finished and went into the auxillary gym. The lights were off and she squinted around to see if Cody was somewhere in the corner or something. Suddenly, there was a splash and the lights flicked on.
Laughter echoed harshly off of the walls as Clare Brewster and a few of her cronies snapped pictures. The shock wore off enough that Lydia realized she was wet and freezing, and an ice cube had made it down the front of her shirt. Shards of melting ice slid around the floor and soaked her shoes. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she refused to cry even as she forced herself past the group of snickering girls.
"These are going all over the school's bulletin board!" She heard before she was through the double doors.
"Earth to Lyds," The poltergeist was waving a hand in her face.
She blinked at him and a decidedly mischievious smile grew on her lips. "It's time to make Clare Brewster pay." She growled.
Beetlejuice grinned, laced his fingers together, and cracked his knuckles. "You know, babes, revenge is sexy on you." That being said, he took up space on her bed. "Any idea what ya want me to 'juice up? How about a snake?" He turned into that giant snake that she'd last seen when he'd tried to force her into marrying him. She jumped back, her hands squeezing the edges of her dresser until her knuckles went white.
She took in a shakey breath. "How about 'no'." She tapped her lip thoughtfully. What made Clare Brewster shudder in her six inch prostitute pumps? She could recall an incident with a spider in Home Economics class. "She's afraid of spiders." She mused.
He cackled and slapped his knee. "Classic! A huge man-eating spider! I've seen Tarantula about 132 times..." He plucked a rat from his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder, along with a pair of rusted fingernail clippers, a hedgehog, two tortilla chips, a lightbulb, a large bowl of dead beetles (presumably his lunch), a pressed poinsettia, a handful of wriggling snakes and some assorted lizards, and finally a spider. "Hmm...what shall I do? Make it talk? Give it wings?"
"Aww, how cute." She cooed and gingerly picked up the delicate thing. "I'll call her...Ginger."
"Ginger?" He sounded revolted. "What the hell kind of a name is that for a spider? Name her Maimer or Killer or..or..Arachne or something. For cryin' out loud, Ginger's whatchya call a friggin' house pet. " He pointed at the spider. "She's grade A scare material!"
She petted the arachnid gently. It snapped its mandibles at her and skittered around in a circle. Everyonce in a while the legs would jerk in a kind of jig. "Look, Beej, she's dancing!" She grinned at him broadly. "I think you should make her a tap-dancing spider."
"Fine, but that's not scary at all!" He complained as he snapped his fingers. Little boots appeared on the tips of each leg and the spider began kicking its legs out even more. It spun around and the heels made a clickety-click. Once the performance was over, the spider bowed. "The scary is still salvagable." He grumbled, cracking his knuckles. Ginger grew and grew until she was too heavy for Lydia to hold.
"Hello." Ginger clicked and did another couple of dance steps.
"I have to admit, Beej, that was impressive." She kneeled down to inspect her new pet. Ginger was about the size of a poodle and fine red hairs stood at attention on her lower abdomen. "Ooh, and she even has the stinging hairs. Good job, thanks. This will scare the bejesus out of Clare!"
"No prob, babes. That was nothing, I tell ya!" He boasted. "Now, let's get down to business!"
The two of them planned late into the evening. Three hours after the sun had set, they were still perfecting their plan to terrify their target when Lydia's stepmother called up to her that dinner was ready. Lydia bit her lip and wrinkled her nose as the smell (or rather, stench) of Delia's homecooked meal wafted upstairs. "Ugh." She shuddered. "I hope she hasn't tried to make duck again. Last time, I swear it was still quacking."
Betelgeuse watched her leave with an anticipation, not just for the thrill of scaring a cruel bitch into temporary insanity, but for Lydia's reaction when he helped her in this way. True, he was always keen on what he could get out of a deal, but he also found, to his profound annoyance, that he would enjoy Lydia's satisfaction. He grinned and ground out his third cigar of the night. This was turning out to be interesting. And, more than he loved scaring the living shit out of breathers, he adored interesting things. Lydia had just made his 'most interesting thing to give a shit about' list and he planned on drawing this out for awhile.