In the darkening evening, a queue was moving outside Broadway's Martin Beck Theatre, the billboard promising a performance of The Sound of Music once everyone was seated. Across the road, a young woman was leaning against a fire hydrant and scowling at the queue. A figure in a broad-brimmed hat and a trench coat came to stand beside her.

'Dear me,' he said, in silky tones. 'If looks could kill...'

'What do you want?' the woman asked irritably.

'I don't want anything,' said the mysterious man. 'But I think that you do.'

The young woman shot him a suspicious glance. Then she suddenly relaxed her frame and said, 'I should have gotten that part!'

'Why?'

'Because I'm the best, that's why!'

'But the casting director didn't agree?'

She shrugged. 'Obviously not.'

'Never mind. You know, I have a certain amount of influence myself... Connie.'

Connie stared at the mysterious stranger. 'How do you know my name?'

He chuckled. 'Please, Connie, spare me the clichés. Now, do you want to play Maria, or not?'

'You know I do.'

'Yes, I know you do. But the real question is... how much do you want it?'

As they continued to converse, the theatre filled up and everyone took their seats. The overture began while, just outside, a mysterious stranger opened his trench coat and the whole street was engulfed in a brilliant white light.


The next morning, in the firehouse, Roland was sitting on the couch and reading the newspaper.

'Weird thing happened at the Martin Beck Theatre last night,' he said, as Eduardo came in from the kitchen with a soda and Kylie appeared on the stairs. 'They recast Maria in The Sound of Music, right in the middle of the show.'

'So?' said Eduardo.

'She probably just got sick suddenly,' said Kylie.

'But this Connie Fisher woman wasn't even her understudy,' said Roland. 'It says here that she was rejected for the role when they auditioned. Then she suddenly showed up last night and brought the house down.'

'Who cares?' said Eduardo.

'I bet it was nothing paranormal,' Kylie said, 'if that's what you're thinking.'

As she spoke, the elevator appeared, and Garrett wheeled his way in looking cheesed off.

'Whoa,' said Roland, closing his paper. 'Get off on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Gar?'

'You could say that,' Garrett said despondently. 'My mom's come to stay with me while my dad's on a business trip. She wants to meet you all.'

'That's nice,' said Roland.

'So where is she?' asked Eduardo.

'She's downstairs with Janine,' said Garrett. 'I just needed some breathing space, y'know?'

'I know the feeling, Garrett,' said Kylie. 'Remember when my dad was here?'

'How could I forget?' said Garrett, seeming to cheer up a little. 'He got himself turned into a tree.'

'Well, I bet your mom won't do that,' said Kylie. 'So it could be worse.'

Garrett looked doubtful. 'Well...'

Just then, a middle-aged woman appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked rather terrified as she said, in a tone that matched her expression, 'Garrett, where did you run off to? Oh, I mean, er...'

'I rolled off up here, Mom,' said Garrett, smiling weakly. 'No need to panic. So, this is everybody. Everybody, this is my mom.'

'Susan,' Garrett's mother said, shaking hands with all of them as they gave her their names.

'Hello, Mrs Miller. I'm Roland.'

'Kylie.'

'Eduardo.'

'It's so nice to meet you all. Garrett's told me about you. Well, not as much as I'd like.' She looked sadly at her son. 'I wish you'd call me more often. I do worry about you, Garrett.'

Eduardo sniggered. Kylie gave him a light slap on the arm, and a warning look.

'You don't have to worry about me,' said Garrett. 'How many times have I told you?'

'But sweetheart, it can't be easy for you...'

'Mom, please, not now.'

Roland and Kylie looked at Garrett, and then at each other. Whether Eduardo was interested or not, he didn't seem so, as he was flicking through Roland's newspaper. Then the alarm went off.

'I've gotta go, Mom,' Garrett said, a little too eagerly. 'Janine'll take care of you, okay?'

His mother took a step towards him. 'Do you need –?'

'No!' He jerked his chair away from her grasping hands. 'Thank you.'


'Your mom seems nice,' said Roland, once the four Ghostbusters were in the Ecto-1 and on the road.

'Yeah, she's okay,' said Garrett. 'Where are we going again?'

'West 77th Street,' said Kylie. 'That's just off Broadway, isn't it? Maybe there's something fishy about this Connie Fisher character after all, huh?'

'What's with the bad puns, Kylie?' asked Eduardo. 'That's Garrett's job.'

'And what's your job?' said Garrett. 'Checking the couch for lumps?'

'Yeah, well,' said Eduardo, 'we wouldn't want Sweetheart sitting on a lumpy surface, would we?'

Garrett scowled, but didn't say anything in reply. After a moment, he said, 'Who's Connie Fisher?'

'Just someone who was in the newspaper,' said Roland, while Kylie shot Eduardo another look in the rear view mirror.


Outside a large and very nice apartment block, Kylie grabbed Eduardo's arm and informed him, 'You're just a moron.'

Eduardo looked stricken. 'What'd I do?'

'You know how Garrett is about his independence,' said Kylie, hanging back while Roland and Garrett made their way into the apartment building.

'What?' For a moment, Eduardo looked puzzled. 'But... I wasn't even thinking about that!'

'You were thinking about making fun of him, though, weren't you?'

'Yeah, well... it's a guy thing, okay?'

'No – you sound like a jerk!'

Eduardo looked at her a moment. Then he said, 'All right, I'll lay off him. I mean, if you really think he cares that much.'

Kylie looked pleasantly surprised. 'Thank you.'

'Come on, you guys,' Roland said, appearing in the doorway. 'You'll never believe it!'

'Don't tell me,' said Eduardo. 'It actually is Connie Fisher.'

'Yes!' said Roland, as though it were the most exciting thing ever, and dashed back inside.

Kylie and Eduardo followed him into a ground floor apartment, where they found Garrett speaking to a young woman who was not Connie Fisher.

'She told me that she got in the show by selling her soul to some guy on the street,' the woman was telling him. 'He was wearing a trench coat and a big hat, so she couldn't see his face, and when he opened his coat there was this blinding light. She told me about it last night when she was, well, normal. She said she agreed to the deal because she didn't believe in selling souls.'

'Neither do I,' Garrett said airily. 'What makes you think Connie doesn't have hers now?'

'Well,' said Connie Fisher's friend, 'if she does have a soul, then something else is wrong. Very wrong. I'll show you. She's in the kitchen.'

She made her way into the next room, and the four Ghostbusters followed. In the kitchen, they found Connie crouching by the fridge, humming the melody of 'My Favourite Things' and eating raw meat out of her hands.

'Eww!' said Eduardo.

Connie looked up, giggled through blood-soaked lips and said, 'I'm a Broadway star.'

'See?' said her friend, with a triumphant look at Garrett.

'Y'know, this guy could be some kind of con artist,' said Garrett. 'Sometimes, if they're convincing enough, a person can trick someone into thinking they've sold their soul even if they claim to not believe it. Makes them go nuts and stuff.'

'What kind of a con is that?' asked Kylie. 'I mean, what's in it for the con artist?'

'And why did she suddenly get put on the stage?' asked Connie's friend, frowning at Garrett.

'This is no confidence trick,' said Roland, approaching Connie with a humming PKE meter. She watched him with suspicious eyes, and chomped her teeth at his hand when he got too close. He jumped back in alarm. Connie's friend moved her gaze from Garrett's face to Roland's.

'So,' she said, looking to Eduardo and Kylie for a sensible response, 'can you get her soul back?'

'We'll certainly do our best,' said Kylie.

'Is she going on as Maria again?' asked Eduardo, looking doubtfully at the crouching figure.

'You bet your butt I am,' said Connie, and giggled again.

'All right,' said Roland, putting away his PKE meter. 'I don't see what else we can do here. We need to find the entity. Let's get to the Martin Beck Theatre and see if we can track it from there.'


Of course, the theatre was closed. The Ghostbusters stood around looking at their PKE meters and trying to peer through windows. Garrett hammered his fists on the locked doors, evidently hoping there was someone inside, until a middle-aged man in animal control uniform came up to him and demanded, 'What are you kids doing here?'

'What's it to you?' said Garrett, matching the man's hostile tone.

'Cool it, Garrett,' said Roland, putting a hand on Garrett's shoulder. Then, to the man, he said, 'We're Ghostbusters, sir. There was some kind of demon here last night, and we're trying to track it down.'

'Probably skipped town by now,' said the animal control officer. 'I'd give it up if I were you.'

'You're very quick to believe us,' said Kylie.

'So I believe in demons,' the officer said. 'So what? Hey!'

Eduardo had stepped right up to the man and shoved his PKE meter in his face.

'This guy's buzzing,' he reported.

'All right,' said Garrett, wheeling his chair into the man's personal space. 'What did it give you?'

'None of your business,' said the man. 'I got what I wanted, and it didn't cost me anything. What's the big deal?'

'It must have cost you something,' said Kylie.

'Right.' The man scoffed, and made air quotes with his fingers as he said, '"My soul". Whatever.'

Roland looked at Kylie. 'He seems to have more soul than Connie Fisher, doesn't he?'

'I don't know about that,' said Kylie. 'These animal control people can be pretty heartless. Anyway, he's not gonna be any help. Let's go.'

'By the way,' Garrett said to the man, as the others got into the Ecto-1. 'Could you tell us which way it went after you saw it?'

'No.'

With that, the animal control officer mooched off, and Garrett frowned after him. He then decided to follow the man at a discreet distance, and soon saw him turning a corner and climbing into a slick red sports car, where a beautiful woman was suddenly all over him like a rash. Garrett rolled his eyes, turned his chair and went back to his teammates.


Roland stopped the car somewhere near Central Park when he noticed that an enormous mansion had appeared there.

'You guys see that?' he asked.

'No,' said Garrett. 'Just you.'

'Good clue,' said Kylie.

'Someone sold their soul for that?' said Eduardo. 'Man, the stuff people want is really shallow. I mean, if this dude can really give them anything...'

'Well,' said Roland, 'it's probably hard to think of something on the spur of the moment. If you were suddenly offered your heart's desire, what would you ask for?'

'Nothing,' said Eduardo. 'I'd rather have my soul.'

'What if you had to pick something?' asked Kylie.

'I don't know,' said Eduardo. 'World peace? No more poverty?'

Garrett scoffed. 'Yeah, right.'

'Of course,' said Roland, 'we don't know for sure that mansion has anything to do with this demon.'

'I think we do,' said Kylie, and nodded towards the rear windscreen. Everyone turned to look, and saw a figure in a trench coat and a broad-brimmed hat talking to an elderly lady.

'He's not exactly inconspicuous, is he?' said Roland.

'Good,' said Garrett, as they made their way out of the car. 'I like to blast something I can see. Hey, Eddie – be careful and don't ask it for anything, will you? We don't need you getting into any more trouble involving cats, or... anything.'

Eduardo scowled, and looked about to say something, but then Kylie touched his arm and said, 'We wouldn't you without your soul, now, would we? All right, you!' She changed her tone abruptly, broke into a sprint and levelled her proton gun on the demon. 'Step away from the nice lady.'

'What's going on?' asked the old woman.

'That's a demon you're talking to, ma'am,' said Kylie, checking her PKE meter to be sure. 'Don't listen to it!'

'Well,' said the demon, turning to face her, apparently unfazed. 'And whom have we here?'

'Ghostbusters, buster!' said Garrett, passing Kylie before bringing his chair to a stop, and then blasting the demon so suddenly that Roland had to pull the old woman out of the way.

'No!' she cried. 'You don't understand! I want to sell my soul!'

The demon, apparently unaffected by Garrett's proton beam, turned and ran through the park. Kylie set off in pursuit, followed a moment later by Garrett. As she ran, Kylie shot a few more rounds of proton fire at the demon, but nothing happened.

'What gives?' asked Garrett, drawing level with her.

Kylie stopped running, and said, 'I guess maybe we have to get that coat off him.'

'Is that all?' said Garrett, and carried on in pursuit of the demon. When he found a large stick in his path, he picked it up and hurled it. He hit the coated figure he was aiming at square in the back, and the figure fell to the ground.

'Bullseye!' Garrett crowed, and pumped his fist in the air. He then wheeled over to his quarry, bent down and began pulling off the trench coat. 'So, you thought could outrun – whoa!'

He reeled back in alarm when he found that it was not a demon underneath the coat, but a man with no other clothes on.

'Oh, you caught him!' a voice cried. Then another said, 'Quick, somebody call the cops!'

'Um, can someone else hold him?' said Garrett, looking a little embarrassed. 'I gotta go.'

'Don't go, son,' said a beefy man, clapping him heartily on the back. 'You're a hero!'

'No, really, I have to go,' said Garrett, and he went, frowning at his PKE meter.

When he met up with the others, the old woman was crying onto Kylie's shoulder, while Eduardo and Roland stood by looking half concerned, half awkward.

'So... that was the demon, wasn't it?' said Garrett.

'Sure it was,' said Roland, indicating his buzzing PKE meter. 'What happened? Did you lose it?'

'Of course I didn't lose it,' said Garrett. 'Something more important came up. See, I had to catch this criminal, and –' He stopped when he realised no one was listening; their attention was back on the old lady. 'What's going on?'

'She has a son,' said Roland, 'and he's in some kind of trouble. That's all she'll tell us.'

'None of our business, man,' Eduardo added.

'I understand why you're upset,' Kylie said to the weeping woman. 'But selling your soul isn't the answer. Do you really think your son wants his mother without a soul?'

'Kylie's right, ma'am,' Roland said, stepping up to them. 'You can help him much better as you are.'


Very soon the four Ghostbusters were back at the firehouse, all hovering around Egon while he tapped away at his computer, with Slimer jostling for a good look at the screen.

'Selling one's soul is a well documented phenomenon,' said Egon. 'I'm sure you've all heard stories about it at one time or another. Of course, traditionally the soul is taken by the entity once the person has died. This particular demon must only accept cash upfront, so to speak.'

'Egon,' Slimer said indistinctly. 'What if I sold mine?'

Egon looked sharply at him. 'Don't. If you want anything, just ask me.'

'Interesting question, though,' said Kylie, with an encouraging smile at Slimer, 'seeing as you're already dead. But we don't want to know the answer, okay?'

'Okay,' Slimer shrugged, and floated off in search of something else to do.

'It makes more sense to take the soul when the person dies,' said Garrett. 'I mean, how long is that stupid guy going to enjoy his nice car and pretty girlfriend?'

'I thought you didn't believe in selling your soul,' said Eduardo.

Garrett shrugged. 'Maybe I do now.'

'I bet Connie Fisher will believe it now,' said Kylie. 'Egon, why wasn't the animal control guy as far gone as her?'

'I can't be sure about that,' said Egon. 'It's possible that an element of belief is involved. Perhaps this Connie Fisher believed more than she knew.'

'You'd think people would believe it once they got what they wanted,' said Roland. 'Even if it is just some car and a girl.'

'That old lady in the park believed it all right,' said Eduardo. 'She would've probably dropped down dead, she believed it so much.'

'Well,' said Egon, 'thank goodness that outcome was averted. It looks like we're dealing with a class six. It shouldn't give you too much trouble if you can get that trench coat off it, and if it is just a regular trench coat. It would have to be good quality, of course, to be completely proton-proof.'

'Yeah, well,' said Garrett, 'we have to find it first.'

Egon turned to look at him. 'You know, Garrett, your mother is still here. She wants to take you out to lunch, once she's satisfied that you're quite all right.'

'What?' Garrett scowled. 'Why wouldn't I be all right?'

'Mothers do worry,' said Egon. 'And ghostbusting is a dangerous business.'

'Yeah, so is crossing the street,' Garrett muttered, as he wheeled his way towards the elevator.

'I suggest you all get some lunch, and then resume the search,' Egon said to the three others. 'We don't want this demon encountering someone else as desperate as your woman in the park.'


A short time later, Garrett and Susan were sitting at opposite sides of a diner booth. Garrett was finishing a very big burger, with his wheelchair folded up beside him, and his mother was picking at a modest salad.

'So what were you doing all morning?' Susan asked.

'Just chasing this demon,' Garrett said with a shrug.

'Oh.'

'We haven't caught it yet. I was on it, but then I caught this guy who was scaring women in the park, and –'

'You did what? Oh my gosh – are you okay? How did you manage it? You couldn't have done that all by yourself, sweetheart.'

Garrett stopped eating a moment to glare at his mother. Then he said, 'So after this I need to get back to it. I'll give you the cab fare home.'

'Do you mean your Manhattan place,' said Susan, with a quiver in her voice, 'or Brooklyn Heights?'

'Well, Mom, they're not exactly a million miles apart, are they?'

'That's why I don't understand your moving out.'

'I've explained that a million times,' said Garrett. 'I like being independent! You've seen me – I've got a job and everything.'

'It must be so difficult for you,' said Susan. 'I wish you wouldn't put on this brave face for me.'

'I'm not! Mom...' He paused to take a calming breath before going on. 'If you really don't believe I can handle having a life, what do you think I'm going to do for the next seventy years or so?'

'Sweetheart, there will always be people to help you.'

Garrett sighed. 'Look, I'm not saying I never need help. Everybody needs help sometimes. But this isn't the Dark Ages! There have been all these wonderful inventions since then, like elevators and wheelchair ramps, and the Americans with Disabilities Act. Remember that?'

'I remember you shoving the newspaper in my face and telling me I wasn't allowed to smother you anymore.'

'And here we are eight years later,' Garrett said, and heaved an almighty sigh, just as the Ecto-1 pulled up outside the window. 'Look, Mom, I have to go. Here's cab fare.' He threw some money across the table, and began unfolding his wheelchair.

'I'm not taking money from you, Garrett.'

'It's hardly anything. I don't want you walking around on your own.'

Susan raised her eyebrows. 'To Brooklyn?'

'Don't be stupid. I mean to my place. You said Dad might call, didn't you?'

'Sweetheart, it's no distance to your place. I'll walk.'

'No, I want you to be safe. Here are the keys.' Garrett, back in his wheelchair by this time, handed Susan his keys. 'I'll see you later, okay?'

He said this all in a rush, and then hurried out of the diner. Susan watched through the window as her son wheeled himself up the ramp into the back of the Ecto-1. Roland waved at her, then turned round at something Garrett said, and suddenly the car was speeding off.

Susan paid for the meal, got up out of her seat and left the diner. As she walked along, a taxi pulled up beside her; the window rolled down, and a smooth voice said, 'Taxi, ma'am?'

'I haven't far to go,' said Susan. 'I'll walk, thank you.'

'Are you sure you'll be safe?'

'Anyone would think you'd been talking to my son. He made me take some of his money for a cab.'

'Well then, perhaps you'd better get in. After all, you love your son, don't you?'

'I love him more than anything,' Susan said, peering through the taxi window, trying to see the driver's face beneath his broad-brimmed hat. A moment later, she relented and got into the back of the cab.


'Why'd you make Roland speed away from that diner, man?' Eduardo asked Garrett. 'You forget to pick up the tab or something?'

Garrett looked uncomfortable. 'Actually, I did. I was in a hurry to get away from my mom, if you really want to know.'

'That's a shame,' said Roland. 'Whatever the reason, Garrett, you should talk to her about it.'

'I will,' said Garrett. 'Later. First we have to pick up the trail on our friend Dick Tracy. So, where are we going?'

'In the wrong direction,' said Kylie, who had been listening to the conversation, and was only just turning her attention to her PKE meter. 'Better turn around, Roland.'


'He's very proud,' Susan was telling the mysterious cab driver, now that they were on the road. 'Of course I'm glad that he tries, but one has to know one's limitations, doesn't one?'

'Does one?' asked the demon. 'If we don't set limitations, then perhaps we needn't have any.'

'No,' Susan said stubbornly. 'If one doesn't know one's limits, then one inevitably ends up getting seriously hurt, or even killed. Besides, he only pushes himself so hard because he knows it upsets me to see him struggling. He's such a good boy.'

'And you are clearly a very good mother,' said the driver. 'I am sure there are no limits as to what you would do for your son.'

'Oh no, of course not!'

'Now, suppose I were to tell you that I could cure his disability.'

'Oh, pull over, please – we're here,' said Susan, as though she hadn't heard. Then as the cab stopped she looked round suddenly, trying to see the driver's face in the rear view mirror, which of course she couldn't. 'What did you say?'

'I can cure your son's disability. I can make him walk.'

'Are you a doctor?'

'I suppose you could say that,' said the demon, chuckling evilly.

'Oh, this is ridiculous.' She opened the cab door, and took out her purse. 'How much do I owe you?'

'But I haven't done anything yet... Susan.'

'Will ten dollars cover it?' She searched frantically in her purse, beginning to look frightened.

'Susan,' said the demon, 'please listen. You may not trust me, and you may not believe me. But I know you want your son cured. No harm can come to him. You and I are the only ones here. So, isn't it at least worth listening to my proposal?'

'I don't see how you can mean what you say,' said Susan, 'but if you really promise that no harm will come to him...'

'You don't care what happens to you, though, do you?' said the demon. 'That's what being a mother means, isn't it, Susan?'

'Well, what do you want from me?'

'Not much. Only...' His voice became suddenly ten times more sinister. 'Your soul.'

Susan laughed, quite relaxed all of a sudden. 'Oh, is that all? Stuff and nonsense, young man!'

'Well then? Susan... for your son... what have you to lose by trying?'