Samantha looked around her new apartment with disapproval. The paint was a nasty vomit-green color, and was peeling away from the wall, revealing under it paisley pink wallpaper. The carpet below her was clearly left over from the 1970s, considering how she sunk into the brown fibers up to her ankles. Almost no furniture was inside; save for a plaid couch that looked positively sordid, and the refrigerator had passed on to a better place a long, long time ago. Posthumously it was home to a faction of large, nasty looking cockroaches that hissed at her every time she opened the door.

"Why did we move here?" Samantha asked her husband as he tottered through the door, carrying their two young children on his shoulders.

"You said you wanted a place of your own, Sam," Daniel replied, setting Joey and Johnny down in the doorway. The siblings scampered off to play, turning the hallway to their bedroom into a cryptic cave filled with bats and ghosts. "And this is all we can afford right now," he continued, leaning on the doorframe, cringing when something cracked. "It's not like your folks are willing to, you know, give us any money for an apartment or anything."

"What a mess we've gotten ourselves into," Samantha lamented, watching as Dan tried to push the obstinate piece of wood back into place. It refused to budge. "I blame you for this," she reproached.

"Me?" he said indignantly, working at the wood. "What did I do?"

"You saddled me with the terrible twosome." Sam gestured over her shoulder at the din coming from the kid's room. It sounded like a cross between an argument and a blast fight.

"Johnathan Charles Fenton! I told you not to use your powers in the house!" Sam didn't even have the heart to stop her husband from unleashing his tyranny on the young children. They were five and three years old and should have known better. Besides, she was hardly 24! She shouldn't have to be dealing with two indefatigable kids. She could hear Dan yelling, and imagined the two children hiding in the corner of the room, staying just out of harms reach while their father articulated every point with a wave of his hand.

Suddenly, Johnny squealed and raced down the hallway, his feet not even touching the ground. It seemed that he was using his powers after all. Joey wasn't far behind her younger brother, and even with his powers Dan didn't seem able to keep up. As he skidded to a stop next to his wife, he was breathing hard.

Calling upon an eloquence that she'd only used in her public speaking class, Sam said, "As I know that catching the little ones on our own would be a laborious and generally difficult job, I propose that we collaborate against these two children in order to catch them and prevent them from destroying what is left of this rather unsuitable home."

"What?"

"Help me catch them, dammit!"

"Well you could have said that the first time!"

"I thought that you would know what I was saying!"

"Dammit, Sam, I'm a ghost hunter, not a linguist!"

At that precise moment, Joey and Johnny flew past the two bickering adults. The former was screaming loudly as the latter had found a bottle of spray cheese. Husband and wife glanced at one another before turning tail and giving chase.