Author's note: This is what happens when I get bored at work and try to dream up the most ridiculous crossovers possible. If you can't stand to see AHS characters be poked fun at, then don't read this. I love AHS (and Beavis and Butthead, but that's another story) and Tate, who I particularly pick on here, is one of my favorite characters. It's all in fun.

It was a long, hot, boring day in Highland. School was out, Stuart wasn't around to torture, Todd was nowhere to be found, and worst of all, the TV was broken. The only channel working was the public access Bible channel.

"This sucks," remarked Butthead after watching some butt-dumpling bellow about Jesus for the fifth consecutive hour. "Let's go get some nachos."

"Um, Butthead?" Said Beavis cautiously after about an hour of walking, "I don't think we went the right way."

"Shut up, butt-munch, I already said we're almost there."

When he looked around, though, Butthead wasn't so sure. This didn't look like their neighborhood. In fact, it didn't look like Highland at all. The small, dilapidated homes and grungy corner stores were gone, replaced by large green lawns, swimming pools, and what looked to him like mansions. Just then, he heard what sounded like crying coming from the inside of a particularly large, old-looking home with no cars parked in front of it.

"Beavis, do you hear that?" He asked.

"Hear what? Dammit, this sucks, I wanted nachos and now we're lost!"

"Shut the hell up, you fart-knocker! I think I hear crying inside of that house. It must be a chick."

The pair had watched enough soap operas to know that when a chick cried, it was the perfect opportunity to swoop in and turn her frown upside-down, so to speak. If daytime TV was any indication, at the end of it, you usually scored. Forgetting about nachos completely, Beavis and Butthead crept around the side of the strange house and crawled in an open window.

Inside the large, dark hallway, they could hear the crying more acutely but still weren't sure where, exactly, it was coming from. They agreed to split up in opposite directions in hope of finding out.

While Butthead wandered off to God knew where, Beavis walked down the long hallway, the crying growing progressively louder as he went. He finally opened the door at the hall's end.

"Uh, hey, baby," he said seductively. "I'm here to like, make it all better. Yeah, huh huh... score..."

Tate Langdon looked up at him, startled. The doe-eyed ghost was enjoying his afternoon cry as usual and hadn't expected to be interrupted, especially not by some ugly blonde kid he'd never seen before.

"Wait a minute!" Exclaimed Beavis, indignant,"You're not a chick!" He squinted at the ghost's pretty features and baggy sweater. It was possible, he realized, that this WAS a chick with short hair and not-very-big thingies. "Wait... are you?"

Tate was not amused by this in any way. "Get out!" He screamed, wiping his cry-snot all over his sleeve. "Whoever you are, get out, or you'll be a ghost soon, if you're not one already!"

"Ghost? Huh huh, cool. Like in that movie with that Edward dude who looks like he always has to take a turd really bad..."

"That's vampires, you idiot!"

"Huh huh huh... poop..."

Frustrated and eager to get back to his cry, Tate decided to try and scare the intruder away. "My name is Tate Langdon," he said in a low, eerie voice. "I died right here in this bedroom in 1994. I got gunned down by a SWAT team. You know why? Because I went to my high school with a gun and I killed fifteen kids. I didn't feel anything, no regret, I just gunned them right down and walked away. Now if you don't go, I'm about to do the same thing to you..."

"Whoa, cool!" Beavis's eyes lit up. Maybe this Tate dude wasn't such a wuss after all. "Like bang, bang! Tate is awesome! Even cooler than Todd!"

Tate sighed, exiting the bedroom without another word. Beavis followed close behind, making gun noises as he went, eager to spend as much time as possible with his new hero.

Meanwhile, Butthead wandered down the basement stairs to find a blonde chick in old-timey looking clothes, sitting in a chair and staring sadly into space.

"Uh huh huh... Hey, baby..."

Nora Montgomery snapped to attention, disoriented and frantic. "Baby?" She asked, breathless. "You have my baby?"'

Taking this as a sexual invite, Butthead sat down next to her in the large chair. "That's right," he said, his hand unceremoniously grazing Nora's right breast, "You just, like, lay back, and let me turn on the magic... Huh huh huh..."

Nora screamed, horrified. "How uncouth!" She cried shrilly, jumping up. "Unhand me at once, you wretched boy! Why, I never in all my life! Oh, I'll have you taken away! Why he-he tried to touch my bosom!"

Charles appeared out of the shadows, shaking his head forebodingly at Butthead. Startled, Butthead ran backwards into an antique Tiffany lamp that Nora had saved from her life in the 1920's, shattering it.

Nora was beside herself. "And now he's breaking my things!" She shrieked, tears in her eyes. In her fury, she picked up another Tiffany lamp and hurled it at the grungy boy herself, narrowly missing him as it shattered against the basement wall. "Get out!" She screamed, her voice high and piercing. "Get out, get out!"

"Wha-ah-aaah!" Screamed Butthead as Thaddeus appeared, baring his sharp yellow teeth at him. He ran clumsily back up the basement stairs, leaving a litter of broken heirlooms in his wake.

"Beavis!" He called as he reached the top, "This place sucks! Come on, you ass-munch, let's go!"