The Comeback
Their luck was uncanny. But then, he'd always considered himself to have absolutely impeccable luck. Here they were, about to get their asses slapped with huge fines and jail time. The judge blew his top and, well, his luck popped in.
Wexler screamed as he turned the corner. Venkman smiled. "You're next, Bubbles." He stated.
The judge looked up, nerves worn past the point of a frazzle. He had no choice, which Peter knew. "All right, all right…. I restrain the order…. Case dismissed!"
Their nerdy friend Louis began to jump for joy. Hell, it was all he could do to keep from cracking a big smile himself. "Now do something!" Wexler ordered.
Well, he was the judge.
He stepped out last, as was his forte. Ray helped Egon mount into his Pack while he helped himself. He was admittedly amazed all over again at the weight of the thing. He struggled to slip into it himself, stumbling to keep from falling over. He groaned.
"I always hated this part of the business…" He announced. They lined up aside one another. Old habit, he noticed. Egon pulled his Thrower.
"You know," He interjected, "It's been a couple years since we used this stuff…. I hope it still works."
"It should," Egon announced. "The power cells have a half-life of 5,000 years." So nice, Egon was. He always had an answer, even if you weren't looking for one. Peter just gripped his Thrower tighter.
He missed this. Although it was for only a couple years of his life, the feel of the Proton Gun in his hands again felt right.
"Well, there's no time for a bench test," Ray stated. "Heat 'em up!"
He shut his eyes. Took a breath and recalled the last time he did this.
He quickly threw his gun sideways, letting the momentum carry his thumb, curving over to flick the activator switch. There was the click of the switch…. and the low, dangerous thump of bass rushing into his ears…. the rumble of said bass shaking his hands… the feel of the cyclotron beginning to spin on his back. He felt alive again.
"Doe……" He started off, allowing the hum and vibration of the Proton Pack soothe him all over again. He heard to his right Ray start his Pack. Hell, he felt the thump of bass fly across to him, and he almost felt giddy once more. It reminded him of being on the job… the feel of your partner's Pack switching on from behind, the bass carrying into your ears, starting your rush before you went into battle.
"Rae……" Ray announced, continuing his own trend.
Another thump of bass, and the shockwave of the unlicensed nuclear accelerator wafted over to him again. Egon chimed in.
"Egon…..!" He announced. Peter looked over at him. Egon flashed a quick grin, Peter himself did not smile, but he almost did out of amusement. Even when Egon wasn't funny…. he was funny.
He felt a slight gust of wind coming at him, he and his two partners looked forward. He could sense that they were here. He would never admit that he believed in them. But having worked with them in the business, they were as real as the gun in his hands and the room he was in. He knew.
The wind picked up, he continued to shift his gaze across the room, looking for any part of their wispy asses. There was a slight sound and suddenly…. a chair was in the air.
"Whoa!" Ray uttered. That was Ray, all right. Always amazed about something. Peter had seen him get amazed over the amount of lint he pulled out of his belly button before. The man was incorrigible.
Another chair flew up. And another…. and another. It was coming toward them. It was their doing. The Scoleri brothers. Now if they would just show their ugly, undead faces….
In a flash, there they were. Right in front of them. Ray and Egon shouted. Peter just gritted his teeth, aimed his Thrower skyward, and yanked on the trigger. The Proton Gun responded with a slightly limp feel. And by limp, he almost lost his footing. Maybe the equipment wasn't up to par anymore. Usually he was almost knocked off his feet.
Now the power kicked in more. The Scoleris flew overhead, going through the wall. The Proton Stream suddenly felt heavy as Hell, as if he was lifting an iron bar. He tried to bring the Gun up, over with the Scoleris to follow them, but he was too slow. He saw Ray and Egon were, too. They cut off the Streams.
What a rush. He felt rowdy… he felt crazy… he felt five years younger. He yelled, out of excitement, half out of anger. The feelings he used to have back in the days.
The yell turned into a scream, almost a fierce war cry. He realized what he was doing in the silence, and he stopped. Given the unreality of the situation, he gazed at Ray and Egon and began to chuckle.
They began to chuckle as well. Peter wasn't sure how, be it seemed as if he'd scared off a ghost. A complete reversal of roles.
Suddenly, the scream of Louis behind him warned of the danger, and he looked up. Ray and Egon had seen it too. The Fat Scoleri had re-appeared through the wall, bellowing, the sound of which shook Peter to his spine.
He had the fat bastard now! Peter shifted his gaze, aimed his Thrower, and fired.
The incandescent stream of Protons blasted forth, and this time, he felt the kick he always remembered. Instinctively placing his feet and pushing into the Gun's kick, he was giving into instinct and handling the Pack like the expert that he was.
The fat bastard began to float to the right, trying to outrun the Stream and its immense power. Peter tracked his stance to follow.
"You've got him, Venkman, hold on!" Egon shouted, Peter kept shifting, chasing the spectre with his Stream. He felt the rush all over again and began to slip back into old habits.
He walked through into the audience section, pushing past the small double doors, letting loose a cowboy whoop, he grinned. The Stream was closing in.
"Come on, Fat Boy! I'm gonna take you home to my private zoo!" He mocked. Suddenly, the tubby entity was trapped, completely tied up in the Proton Stream. Behind him, he heard Ray shout.
"You got him! You got him! Spengy, bring the Trap!" He elated, Egon gave a vocal okay. Peter reveled in the moment, watching the creature writhe in his grasp.
He heard the other Ghost's laugh, and he looked back to see the skinny one launch through the wall and toward Ray, Egon shouted out.
"Behind you, Ray!" Egon ducked as Ray opened fire on the other brother.
Somewhere glass shattered and the judge yelled out.
Egon yelled out again. "Hold him, Ray…. Venkman! Start bringing him back!"
Ray yelled in near-agony, and Peter nodded, beginning to back up and drag the tub of Ectoplasm back with him.
"Come on, you Pig-feeder, let's go! Yeah, Chubby!" Peter continued to harass the ghost. That was one thing he loved to do. Ever since he'd first gotten slimed…. he never took to the job too seriously.
"Ray, keep pulling him to the right!" Egon ordered. Peter himself backed up, with the force of the ghost and the Stream, he half-stumbled backward into position, he noticed Egon had the Trap down and in position to deploy. "Okay, the Trap's going in!" He continued.
Egon sent the rectangular, black and yellow striped box out into the middle of the floor. Peter was having the time of his life.
"The brothers really wanted loose. Ray cried out "Now now now, Spengy!" As he was almost pulled of his feet, Peter yelled out a hearty; "SHIT!"
They stood in position, Egon stood up. Egon yelled. "Hold him, Ray!" Ray shouted "Hit it!"
Peter heard the stomp of the footpad and the click of the opening Trap doors. He instinctively shut off his Thrower and turned his eyes away… standard Ghostbusters procedure.
He heard the shouts and cries of the Scoleri brothers as they were pulled into their newfound, tiny prison. A click later and a double beep, and they all turned to look again at the Ghost Trap.
They walked briskly forward and started down at the box, grinning. Time for an old tradition. Ray began.
"Two in the box…!" He started.
"Ready to go!" Egon continued.
"We be fast…" Peter stated.
"And they be slow!" They all finished, pointing downward.
Louis ran forward and stared down at the Trap in wonderment. "Wow…" was all he could say.
Louis picked up said Trap, and Peter led them forward to greet their public outside the main courtroom. He and Ray threw open the doors. This had all been a lot of fun. But what did it mean? What was going to come next? If nothing else, they publicity would be great.
There were reporters everywhere with mics shoved in his face. Just like old times. Well, they needed something to quote him on. He stated the facts.
"We're the best… we're the beautiful… we're the only…. Ghostbusters!" People began to applaud.
"We're back!" Ray shouted, throwing a fist triumphantly into the air. Everybody cheered.
They were back? Peter wasn't ready for that revelation. But Hell, what other choice was there?
There were suddenly many things to do. He had to call the station and quit, they had to buy back the Firehouse…. and he had to see how little he could pay Janine to get her to come back. That's what he did, of course, being the chairman of the team.
But he chose to forget about all that for a moment. There, with the crowd around them ecstatic, the hum of the Pack on his back, and the smoke from the Trap filling his nostrils just like old times, in that smell that only a smoking Trap had…. he was home again.