Note: As in my other stories about the 'Busters, canon for me is Ghostbusters movie 1, and anything written by, approved by, or sneezed upon by J. Michael Straczynski. Everything else is just cannon fodder. Heck, if Aykroyd and Ramis can continually go against their own canon, I think I can just toss out what I see as nonsense, too.
Thanks to "E/J E/E TJ/JC" at the Ectozone forums for noticing my neglect of mocking the idea of the Junior Ghostbusters in my previous story, The Damocles Solution. Within here is your JGB mocking, served cold, just for you!
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!
The Firehouse Inspection Service!
Chapter 1. The Announcement!
"Hey, guys, knock it off. I gotta make sure Ecto-1's back to her glorious original beauty. You saw how hard she took that last job we were on, didn't ya?" said Winston in his own defense.
Ray grinned, packing away the tools he was using to give the car another look-over before they got called out again. "If you buff that spot any more, you're gonna wear a hole in the hood!" He watched Winston pass the chamois cloth over the same area on the hood. Again.
The dark man had been crouching next to the car, looking ever so closely at the spot being buffed, closing one eye, then the other, in turns. He would have probably popped out an eyeball and placed it right on the newly re -repaired hood of their faithful vehicle if he only could. "Ooooh, yeah. That should do it. Gonna be ready for anything now!" he said, winking and giving the hood a thumbs-up into his own polished reflection, before rising to his full height and neatly folding and storing the chamois.
Walking toward the stairs, out of the corner of his eye, Winston caught sight of a quickly-moving green blob coming out of the kitchen. Yep, he thought. There was Slimer, flying through the air at top speed, carrying a large metallic tray with his little hands, babbling victoriously.
And, yup…there was Peter behind him, screaming at the top of his lungs for the ghost to drop the precious tray containing Mrs. Faversham's homemade lasagna, and right NOW! Immediately!
Slimer flew around, seemingly solely to get the most rise out of the psychologist that he could, nimbly staying just out of reach of Peter's grabby hands.
He flew up the stairs, with Peter following, then down.
When he flew over Ecto-1 however, Winston started to get a little nervous. "'ey, Slimer! I just polished the car, so be careful where you drag Peter around to, alright?"
After an exasperated "WHAT?" from Peter, Slimer stopped in midair above the hood of the vehicle, giving Winston a huge grin and a thumbs-up. Peter took the moment Slimer stopped moving as an opportunity to glare viciously at the little ghost.
"Hand back that tray, or I'll start dual-wielding traps to bring you back here! NOW!"
Slimer flinched when he saw Peter's hands coming toward him, and with a spray of ectoplasm, flew toward the kitchen area again.
And Winston also flinched and put a palm to his face when he turned on the stairs, only to see the green goo fall from the sky, and splat directly on that spot of Ecto-1 he just got done polishing.
With a sigh, Winston gripped the railing, stopped on the stairs in mid-step. He covered half of his face with a palm. "I am NOT gonna clean that. I am NOT gonna clean that. I'm NOT gonna let that spot bother me."
"You really shouldn't, Winston," offered Ray. "He's only having a little fun! It's cute!"
"Yeah, man. He's real cute…until you gotta clean up the mess."
Peter slid to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with an upraised fist, eyeing Slimer again who had now disappeared into the bunk room. "That's what I keep TELLING you guys! But nooooooooooooo! 'Peter!'" he said with silly pursed lips, "'Wook at him! He's soooo cuuuute!' 'Peter, awww! Wittle Swimer is just having a widdle fun!'" he said, mocking the two most guilty of constantly saying that verbal crime—the two who had just finished reparing and polishing the Ecto-1.
Slimer popped his head out the bunkroom, and gave Peter the loudest raspberry he ever made in his un-life.
"You just wait, spud! You get any a' yer gook on that lasagna, and your days are NUMBERED! JUST…WAIT!" he yelled, jumping two and three stairs at a time past Winston, who kept repeating "I am NOT gonna let that spot on the car bother me."
With his shoulders falling, Winston turned, unable to resist the impulse to get rid of the ectoplasm off the hood of the car, and headed back over to the closet in resignation to retrieve the paper towels and chamois cloth. Of course, to Ray's unbridled amusement.
Peter only got halfway up the stairs this time before Slimer flew down towards the kitchen again. Following him, Peter grunted in rage, and jumped down sets of stairs again, raced around Janine's desk, and stopped to glare again as the green ghost stuck out his tongue from behind the secretary's chair.
Janine sighed, rolled her eyes, and shifted more paperwork around. "Typical day."
"That's it! I'm grabbing two…or three! Or four traps! You're gettin' it, ghost!"
Slimer started toward the kitchen, and Peter was close behind, not even watching that he wouldn't run over Egon, who was quietly sitting on the floor at the secretary's feet, his back propped up by a side of her desk.
Egon pulled in his long legs just in time as Peter raced by him. Never taking his eyes off the PKE meter he was adjusting, he turned his mouth halfway up wryly. "It would be best to remove the entrée from Slimer's PKE-encrusted digits first before attempting to use a trap. I calculate there is an 80% chance that struggling against the pull of a trap would only result in the upset of said entrée, therefore making any attempts to rescue it not only a moot point, but also a big mess."
Peter stopped again in his tracks only for a moment to growl "You and your technicalities…" to the blonde physicist before bolting toward the kitchen again with a yell.
Egon grinned to himself, and Janine stifled a giggle. That boy really knows how to pour salt on a wound! she thought to herself. I'm soooo proud of him!
A knock was heard at the doors, and with a piercingly yelled "DOOR'S OPEEEEEEN!" from their red-headed secretary, one of them swung in , and in walked a beautiful woman in a businessey, navy blue pinstriped, skirted suit.
"My! What an unprofessional way to let someone in the doors of your business!" said their guest. She flipped her luxuriously long dirty-blonde locks with one hand only after releasing for a moment the hand of a small girl, who in turn gripped a large teddy bear in one of her tiny arms. The tall woman tapped her full pink lips with a finger, cocking her eyes upwards in thought. "I'll make a note of this for the mayor!"
She clip-clopped in her perfect navy pumps over to Janine's desk, and plopped her dusty-pink briefcase heavily on it, the sound causing Egon to straighten a bit, draw his eyes up from the meter to their corners, and his eyebrows in.
Janine shot up from her chair. "'ey, lady! Whatchathink yer doin' at my workstation?" she barked.
Across the garage, Ray's eyes shot wide open. "Oh no!" he whispered in horror, in a way that only Winston standing next to him could hear.
Winston straightened from polishing off the last of Slimer's mess from the hood of the Ecto-1. "What's up Ray?" he whispered back. "You recognize her? Is she a ghost? A siren? A banshee?" He walked casually over the closet and cooly unearthed a PKE meter. After flipping a few dials, he looked back up at the occultist. "Hm. She's not supernatural. What gives?"
Ray's complexion went white as a sheet. "You don't know the bad feeling I have about this, Winston," said the redheaded 'Buster, accompanying Winston toward Janine's desk. "I know who that is! This is worse than ten Gozers! That…that's—!"
"Mrs. Justine Cosser!" said the tall woman brightly to the secretary, opening up her briefcase and getting out a yellow legal pad and a pink pen. "And please refer to me only as Mrs. Cosser! I'm here today on official business from two different sources!" She turned her attention to the little girl aside her, and pointed toward Janine's chair. "Madisonne Bryttnye, I think this, ahem, nice lady here would be more than happy if you sat down in her chair and behaved like a good little girl."
Winston leaned over to Ray. "And who, perchance, is this exactly?"
Ray sighed in worry. "We...just…ran into her while looking for Slimer, who ran away from us when he got upset a couple months ago. She had some pretty silly-sounding suggestions to make our work into an animated series. She said she works in the legal business, and she has connections to everything from high-end lawyers to TV station executives!"
Winston nodded, his expression becoming more concerned hearing that description.
"Mommy, this is Janine! I love Janine. Can I talk to Janine?" asked the little girl with the teddy bear adorably, climbing in the chair behind the desk. She was oblivious to the secretary's gaze turning from flattered and pitifully confused toward the little girl, to vengeful and poisonous toward her mother.
"Mommy is here on work right now, sweetie," said Justine to her daughter. "You can…ah…maybe talk to Janine when Mommy's done," she added, entirely not comfortable with that concept. "Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Cosser to herself, with a swing of her blonde locks. "I still have to talk to your father for taking you and the two boys to see that Ghostbusters movie!"
"Awwwww," said the little girl, looking down to the floor.
Egon, in the meantime, had straightened to his full height, placed the PKE meter on the desk, and pocketed his hands. "Do you have any documentation to support this claim?" he asked incredulously.
Mrs. Cosser gazed at Egon, transfixed. "Why…if it isn't Dr. Spengler. I finally get to see you up close…and…personal." She made her way over to him, looking him up and down. "Bearer of multiple doctorates, designer of all the Ghostbusters' equipment," she continued, curling around him as he stood stiffly. "Graduate of MIT…in grade school," she purred, accidentally brushing up against him, which made his eyes open wide and forced him to catch his breath.
Ray and Winston turned around to each other, sticking out their tongues to mimic severe nausea.
Janine made fists with her hands, glaring at the woman murderously. "He asked for YOUR paperwork, not HIS, you damned floozie!" She saw out of the corner of her eye, that Peter was, strangely, standing at the doorway to the kitchen, his hands in his pockets, watching the proceedings like a hawk. And for some reason, she knew that this was very good.
Mrs. Cosser shot a beaurocratic, half-lidded look back at their secretary. "I'm here on some business from the mayor, and from a reputable mothers' organization, for your information!" Before curling around Egon again and returning to her briefcase, she lifted a hand up, and brushed his lower back ever so delicately, causing the physicist to wince and grind his teeth, looking almost like he was recoiling in pain.
Janine whispered his name, seeing his discomfort, and sat on her desk, right next to where he was standing. She riveted her glare again on Mrs. Cosser, and crossed her arms defiantly as the woman brought out some documents form her briefcase.
Mrs. Cosser flipped her hair. "Not to mention that I have been deleriously and happily married for fifteen years! And, anyway, getting down to my business here, I'm here representing, first of all, 'Women Advocating Age-appropriate Animation in the Home', or WAAAH for short!" she winked at Egon. "I'm the chairwoman!"
Winston nudged Ray. "I don't think I'd wanna be the chairperson of anything that sounds remotely like that." Ray nodded.
By now, Mrs. Cosser was holding two separate packets of paperwork, each stapled neatly together. "And I am also representing, as I said, the mayor! I'm here to review and observe your business operations, suggest improvements, address safety issues, and update your office décor before the City considers using your business again for future tax-funded missions!"
"Update the office décor?" quietly parroted Ray in confusion, looking at Winston and only getting a shoulder shrug for an answer.
Mrs. Cosser presented the paperwork to Egon, who took it…however, she did not release it until she ran her hand up Egon's hand, massaging it lightly. "I'm sure you'll find my credentials as spotless as yours, Dr. Spengler."
Egon, now looking irreparably violated, tried pulling back his arm, and found that Mrs. Cosser was refusing to release the paperwork to him, and a brief struggle ensued. She continued to stroke his arm, working her way up to his tan rolled-up cuff sleeve. "You can call the mayor anytime you like. The private line to call about my work is…in here," she whispered to him.
Janine's face had been glowing a nuclear shade of red for a while now, and just before she could bat away the woman's arm and launch a merciless verbal assault on her, Peter walked up to the suited woman calmly, grinning broadly at things only he could fathom.
"Mrs. Cosserrrrr!" he drawled, taking the hand she was using to stroke Egon's arm, causing her to get distracted and finally release the paperwork in the other hand to the tall physicist, who pulled it away with a flourish and bared teeth. "I remember meeting you and your adoooooooorable children on that day when we ran into each other when Ray and I were looking for…for…well, yanno." He unceremoniously thumbed back toward the kitchen, where Slimer had appeared in the doorway, throwing a corner of lasagna into his mouth.
"Agh!" Slimer announced, squeaking wordlessly.
Peter lifted her hand up to his mouth. "Gosh, look at us. I never got to give you a proper introduction, now did I?" He grinned slyly. "But someone like you, and someone like me, needs no introductions, right?"
"How true, Dr. Vankman! How true," she said, grinning broadly back at his attention.
He kissed her hand. For quite a while. While doing so, Mrs. Cosser jumped, her eyes going wide. She released an unconscious little ooooh in pleasure and she could feel more than just his lips brushing against her.
Janine and Egon both turned green at the thought of Peter doing…well, what Peter was doing. Ray rolled his eyes. Winston, with his hands on his hips, looked like he was was ready to explode into a fatherly tirade for some odd reason, which was undoubtedly extremely unusual for him.
"I am beginning to think this project will turn out wonderfully, Dr. Venkman. I really do!" she said, winking now at the psychologist.
"This paperwork looks official, however I will be making a call or two to confirm this," said Egon irritatedly. "According to what I'm reading here, this documentation gives you full reign to adjust any portion of our operations according to your prepared written statements submitted to the mayor's office. Am I correct?"
"Well, yes. Of course," answered Mrs. Cosser, her irritation now directed at what she now considered the cold and cruel Dr. Spengler.
Egon scowled at the paperwork he was riffling through. "After so many successful missions and work from all over the world, I consider your involvement in this business superfluous, contemptuous, and downright laughable, Mrs. Cosser."
Mrs. Cosser looked down the bridge of her nose. "Then I am certain you'll realize the importance of my poisiton here, when I tell you that the mayor is aware of your special arrangement with the power company in regards to maintaining your…what's it called…er…abstainment unit?"
"Containment unit!" growled Egon deeply, through his clenched teeth.
She shook her luscious dirty blonde locks, to Peter's enjoyment. "Well, that paperwork says that if you resist my suggestions, or hinder my involvement, that all I have to do to get that power shut off is to make one phone call to the mayor's office!" She cocked her head, smiling devilishly.
Ray and Winston gasped in horror, and Janine whispered Egon's name, grabbing his arm in worry.
"Unconscienable," whispered Egon.
"Ah, Spengs, guys. Don't worry. I'm sure it won't be that bad," said Peter, to everyone's fury. He picked up Mrs. Cosser's hand and held it as he spoke. "I'm suuuuuuure such a beautiful, brilliant, family-oriented young lady would only be doing such an unpopular job out of her concern over the future generation. Am I right, Missus Cosser?" he asked, with a sultry pout of his lips.
Mrs. Cosser threw her head back with a smile again. "Well! We have one Ghostbuster who seems to be making the correct decision." Pointing at each of the four men in turn, she continued. "Now. The plan is, I inspect every inch of this firehouse, and then I will return again with any materials you'll need to implement the new improvements suggested!" She closed her eyes and smiled. "And then I am to go on one call with you to observe your work in the field, in the middle of ghostbusting. I think it's a wonderful plan, don't you?"
Peter's next question was the only thing that prevented a round of cricket sounds as her answer. "Sooooo. What part of our humble little business would you like to see first, Mrs. Cosser?"
She turned to him, obviously not minding at all that he still held her hand. "I'd like to see the Detrainment Unit, please!" She called her daughter to her, and held her hand.
Peter smiled, and led her and her daughter to the stairs. "Oh, suuuuuure. That's in the basement. I'll take ya there," he said with a wink.
She shrunk back a bit. "The basement?" She shook her head. "Oh…then OK. I don't really like scary dark underground places, but I'll do it, for the good of the children!"
"No problem," cooed Peter, wrapping an arm around her, leading her down the stairs. "Just let good ol' Dr. V protect ya when it gets really scary, and you'll be fine!"
Egon didn't turn toward them, but spoke over his shoulder. "Peter, you are absolutely forbidden to instruct her how to use the containment unit."
Peter was ready with an answer, but Mrs. Cosser had one ready first. "Oh, don't worry, Doctor Spengler," she said with a tone of hostility. "I don't care how it works! I am just concerned about whether it's safely signed, childproofed, and understandably labelled!"
As they disappeared below the floor, Ray repeated the word "childproofed?" to himself, completely baffled.
Janine, wearing the same searing expression as Egon, let a curse fly, and held Egon's arm tighter. "This is so many sides of wrong, I don't even know where to start."
Winston slapped his hands to his head, looking like he was ready to blow in fury. "I do! Guys! I canNOT believe that! What part of MISSUS or MARRIED WOMAN doesn't that guy understand!"