THE BOGEYMAN
By Princess Jennalea
(with apologies to "The Real Ghostbusters")
There was something thoroughly nasty in the closet. Something that wasn't there when the house had blasted off from Transsexual. Somewhere behind the metallic military gear and tattered butler's tailcoat, something lurked. Of course Riff Raff had never ~actually seen it. It never came out, and Riff most certainly had no desire to go in while it was talking. During the day, when it was silent Riff could open his closet to get whatever he needed with no problem. But at night it spoke to him, whispering madness and glutting itself on the anxiety it caused. Magenta never heard it; It would keep mockingly silent on those long incestuous nights. But those nights happened increasingly less ever since the Earthling Columbia moved in. The thing in the closet found that very amusing. He didn't dare go and tell the Master of those late night jeers and how the sickly stench of Goat hung in the air. Frank already thought his handyman was nuts without that little tidbit. Columbia and Eddie were mere humans. That left Riff alone.

With his closet.

What in blue blazes was in there anyway? And how could It's taunting be so exact? It was as if it could peer directly into the butler's tortured psyche. It knew exactly how to make him cringe. It verbally pulled no punches; went straight for his throat. When things went badly in the household, the closet KNEW! Every beating Frank gave him, every spat he had with Magenta, and every fleeting angst he had during the day. Would be sadistically gloated over until Riff would press his palms to his ears and shriek.
And that voice! It mocked him in a low whispery rasp that was reminiscent of spiders scuttling and knives drawn across a chalkboard. A voice that would send shivers down the handyman's twisted spine.

"Hey, Baldy,"it would rasp. "You realise you're never going home again, right? You're going to die down here and be forgotten. Your sister won't miss you. She's a dyke, quite frankly. And speaking of Frank, he laughs at you while he works on that play toy of his. You're little unrequited crush on him is
Highly hillarious. He doesn't like you. He never liked you. Hey, I'll bet Magenta digs musclemen, too. How much do you weigh soaking wet?" and so on.

Eventually Riff developed a nervous condition coupled with an acute paranoia that everyone was out to get him. An attempt to calm himself with illegal drugs only worsened his condition
Now he was addicted.

And nervous.

"You're going to catch a disease from those needles," it would giggle obscenely.

"Oh shut up," Riff would snarl night after night. But it never
did.

Finally one evening Riff Raff was in a foul mood. It was one of those nights when nothing went right. First those two insipid humans interrupted the annual convention. He was insanely jealous of Rocky who was as intellectually stimulating as a bowl of mice. Frank had beaten him in front of an earthling.
They weren't going home. Worst of all, the candyman hadn't shown up and he was out of heroin on a night he really needed a fix. He stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him am hard a
painting fell to the ground.

" S'matter, Fluffy?" Riff's closet hissed. "Oh, I forgot to tell you something."

"What, Goddamn you?!?" the enraged butler shrieked.

"Frank put me in here to piss you off." it lied venomously. With that Riff ripped open the closet door and the last bit of his sanity melted. The interior of his closet and all that was supposed to be in it were gone. Where the rear wall was during the daytime was an open secondary door spilling an ethereal
Glow. Leaning against that door jamb, sharpening it's black talons was a horrible nightmare. It was fantastically huge, most of it's bulk being it's oversized head. It's terrible moon shaped face was framed by a wild spiked mane of neon blue hair that was long enough to touch the floor between it's Goat legs and hooves. It sneered at him with It's horrifying fang-filled red mouth an that stretched from one fox-like ear to another. The thing was snappily clad in a tailcoat like Riff's and a red bow tie. It was
smiling.

"You were always so easy to scare," it bragged, "I never
even had to step into your room. Feeding off you was like ordering a pizza!"

"What the fuck are you?" Riff managed to stutter.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you Besides..." it said while turning around, "... you're far too old to believe in the Bogeyman, anyway." With that it stepped back into it's Limbo-In-Between place and slammed It's door behind It. Immediately the closet was a closet once again and he had clothing in his face.
Startled, he sputtered and slapped it away from him. His spacesuit fell off its hanger. He picked it up, only half aware of what he was doing. On his way out he stumbled over the laser that was resting on it's usual place on the floor. A laser capable of emitting a beam of pure antimatter. When he stepped back into the safety of his room, he carried it out with him. He started obsessing with one of the monster's comments. One simple sentence kept screaming in his mind.

"Frank put me in here to piss you off."

Frank? He started thinking, drawing from his own personal well of paranoia. Everything became crystal clear in his clouded mind.

"Yes, Frank," he mused out loud.. "He never liked me."

Slowly Riff Raff donned his space suit. As he dressed, he called his sister with the monitor.

"Magenta? We have to talk. The Master has gone too far and a decision has to be made. Get dressed and put your hair up. We're going home."

Something in the closet giggled as Riff marched sanctimoniously out of the room. Going home are you, Riff? Goooood. I knew that you would. A whole new world for me to play in!

Across the castle, in the pool room, the Groupie screamed and the die was cast.
THE END