AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another rehash from my Camp Monkee Mallard files (only this one isn't posted on my site anymore). I thought it would make an interesting idea for an Impossibles story. I was inspired by the ride "The Tower of Terror" at the MGM Studios in Disney World (though now it's known as the Disney Hollywood Studios, but the ride's still there). I figured it would be good for Halloween, but I couldn't wait until Halloween to post it. As always, the Impossibles belong to Hanna-Barbera. Everyone else you encounter belongs to me.

It was a dark and stormy night. The Impossibles were driving along on another tour, and it felt like they had been driving for what seemed like hours.

"Coiley, do you even know where you're going?" Fluey asked.

"Of course I do," Coiley said. "It's not my fault visibility is practically zero out here!"

Both Multi and Fluey groaned. It was obvious Coiley didn't know where the heck he was going. They were likely to be wandering around the road aimlessly, until they happened upon a hotel or something.

"First hotel I come to, I'm stopping," Coiley said.

"Good," Multi replied. "We could all use a little shut eye."

"Yeah," Fluey said. "And tomorrow, maybe we can figure out where we're heading."

Thunder clapped and lightning flashed then. Impossi-Mobile ran over something and got a flat tire, right in the middle of nowhere, or so the group thought.

"Rats!" Coiley shouted, pounding on the steering wheel. "Well, we can't find a hotel with a flat tire. And I don't know how to change one."

"Is there a mechanic in the house?" Fluey asked. "We may have to push it back to that gas station we passed."

"That was almost ten miles back," Coiley said. "And this rain . . . . . ."

Suddenly, thunder and lightning flashed again, lighting up the area. Multi happened to be looking out the bus window when lightning struck.

"Hey, we may not have to push the car in the rain after all," he said. "We blew a tire right in front of a hotel!"

"This is a hotel?" Coiley asked.

"Looks more like a tourist trap to me," Fluey said.

"I agree," Coiley said. "Maybe we should push the car to that gas station. I'm getting a weird feeling."

"You said you'd stop at the first hotel we came across, Coiley," Multi said. "And I'm going to hold you to it. Come on, fellas, grab the stuff."

The boys left most of the heavy stuff in the Impossi-Mobile, and took their luggage into the hotel. The building was old, and creepy looking. It looked abandoned.

"The Hollywood Hotel," Coiley said, looking at the sign. "I don't know why, but I don't like the looks of this."

"Me neither," Fluey admitted.

"I think it's because the building is so old," Multi said.

"I think we oughta try to fix the flat and find another hotel," Fluey said. "This place gives me the creeps."

"We're all creeped out because it's thundering out here," Multi said.

Coiley and Fluey sighed and followed Multi into the lobby. The interior looked like it hadn't changed since the 1930's. It was dim, old, and downright creepy looking. Not to mention deserted. Thunder clapped outside again. That only creeped the boys out, but Multi walked up to the front desk, and banged the bell. A pasty looking clerk appeared from a door.

"Aaahhhh," he said, in somewhat of a British accent. "Guests! Welcome to the Hollywood Hotel. Do you have a reservation?"

"No," Multi said. "See, our car got a flat outside your hotel here. We were wondering if you had any vacancies."

"Well, I might be able to squeeze you in," the clerk said. "Let me see what we have here. Our guests will be delighted that you're here. They so very much enjoy a visit from the younger generation. We're all fans of all those teen shows on the television, and the teen songs on the radio. They make our permanent residents feel young."

The clerk laughed, somewhat sinisterly. He checked the register, and then went over to the peg board to get a key. There was only one vacancy, and it happened to be on the thirteenth floor.

"It's the best we can do," the clerk said. "We can't kick anyone out of their rooms, you know."

"Uh huh," Multi said, signing the register book (under his real name, Mark Mills). "I know that. But that's okay. No problem, right guys?"

"You sure about this?" Fluey asked. "I'm getting a case of the mega creeps here."

"It's just the thunderstorm outside," Multi said. "There is absolutely nothing to worry about!"