Being in handcuffs and stuffed into the back of Police Car with four other people was dramatic enough. But Jesse had to go and make it worse.

"If we don't do something in the next few hours, Chloe Beale's apartment is going to kill us all."

Beca let out a short, exasperated breath, and tried to break down that sentence into something she could deal with.

"Just… I mean… what?"

Jesse didn't withdraw his statement. If anything, he doubled down. "It's actually not even an apartment building at all - it's a friggin' ghost antenna. It was only ever designed and built for the purpose of pulling in and concentrating supernatural turbulence. Employing a doorman and charging wealthy manhattanites rent was just to distract from that fact."

Beca sat with that for a second. "Okay," she said. "So Chloe's building is a spook magnet. I got a cousin who lives in a downtown walkup that's right next to a fish factory, but it's a rent controlled, and that's just New York real estate, y'know? You gotta take the good with the bad!"

The car hit a pothole in the road and all four of them jerked upwards in their seats, hitting their heads on the roof of the car.

"So the freaky block of flats pulls in ghosts," said Amy, trying to reach up and rub the bump on her temple, before remembering that her hands were cuffed behind her back. "Isn't that good? Now we won't have to rush about all over the city, we'll just head over to the Beale's place, trap the ghosts, and have Chloe cook us a fry-up before we leave!"

Jesse looked at her like she was peeing on his Star Wars Blu Ray. "Do you know how much Psychokinetic Energy we're talking about and what it could be used for?"

Amy looked to Beca. Beca shrugged in a 'how the hell should I know?' sort of way. It was Benji who ended up answering the question.

"Gozer," he said gravely. "Gozer is coming."

"I'm confused, what exactly is a Gozer?" said Amy.

Benji shrugged. "A god, a monster, a behemoth - the old Sumerian texts never go into much detail. But what I do know is that Chloe's apartment building was built for him. The architect was named Ivo Shandor, I knew I recognised it when I saw it on the blueprints, and then I found it in Tobin's Spirit Guide."

Beca frowned. "Why is a turn of the century architect listed in your supernatural encyclopaedia?"

"Because before he was designing fancy high-rises, Ivo Shandor was a military doctor. But they say what he saw during World War One drove him insane. He was convinced that humans were beyond saving and needed to be destroyed. So I guess he started flicking through the myths and legends section of his local library to try and find himself a Destroyer, because he was apparently the founder of a secret society of Gozer worshippers.

"But you said 'myths'," Amy pointed out. "That's all Gozer is, right? A story. Like Hercules, or the Bogeyman."

Benji glanced at Beca, and she knew why. Amy and Jesse had been on call last night when everything went crazy, and Benji had been busy dealing with Aubrey's nonsensical ramblings. It was Beca who had the front row seat to Gozer's opening number.

"Chloe was floating," she said to Amy. "She was floating, and growling, and barking…"

"Ivo Shandor was not screwing around with myths," said Jesse. "And neither is Gozer. They were trying to bring about the legit end of the world, and if we get thrown in a jail cell, we're not gonna be able to do anything to stop it!"

The cop car chose that moment to slow to a halt, and when the passenger doors were opened and the Ghostbusters stepped out, they found themselves looking up at a grand, white-bricked building.

"Wow," said Amy. "Even the prisons in this country are fancy."

"This isn't a jailhouse," said Jesse, as confused as Beca and Benji were. "It's City Hall."

"Why exactly are we here?" Beca asked of the officer currently leading them up the short set of steps and into the building.

"All I know is that the Mayor wants to see you immediately," he said.

"So this is pretty cool." asked Amy, looking curiously around the hallways they were being ushered through. "Any of you three been in here before?"

Benji and Jesse gave absentminded shakes of the head, too busy worrying about what exactly the Mayor of New York had to say to them. Beca, however, found herself experiencing a vague flashback.

"Once, I think, on a class trip. Although I remember a gift shop, so maybe it was actually the Museum of Natural History. It may have even been the big Public Library building on Fifth Avenue, now that I think about it. Jesus, I was not paying attention in elementary school."

"That explains a lot," said her Dad, who they found standing outside the doors to the Mayor's office. He was trying to look mad, but his arms were folded way too tight across his chest, and his foot wouldn't stop tapping worriedly against the floor.

"Perfect," said Beca. "You're here."

"Yeah," Amy agreed, matching Beca's spiteful tone. "Perfect. Wait, who is this man?"

"Its her Dad," said Jesse helpfully.

Benji turned to Beca. "Are the Police always going to call your father when I get arrested?"

"Probably," she replied. "He's annoying like that. Seriously though, Dad, why are you here? This isn't college, you can't use your tenure to talk them into not sending me to jail."

"For your information, Rebecca, both the Mayor and his deputy are dear friends of mine from the wine club. They trust my judgement and often seek my guidance on matters concerning the city. Not just when they directly involve my daughter."

As if in response to this ludicrous statement, the doors to the office swung open. A woman stood there; short, blonde, with hair perfectly coiffed to look like a beehive. She looked around, panic-stricken, at each of the four Ghostbusters, until her gaze fell upon Beca's Dad.

"Oh, Warren," she sobbed. "It's terrible in here. Oh, it's just awful. Seriously, don't tell anyone, but I think the city is about to just crumble apart and die!"

Beca watched in bemusement as her father stepped forward to reach out and take the lady's hand, caressing it in a soothing manner.

"Gail, everything's going to be just fine, I'm sure of it. Now let's get in there and sort all of this out."

The woman - Gail, apparently - nodded stiffly, wiping away stray tears and fixing any creases in her smart pant-suit. "You're right. God damnit, you're so wise. Okay, let's do this."

She opened the door fully and beckoned for everyone to follow inside. It was a spacious room, with huge windows and royal blue carpet. There was a set of couches on the left for informal talks, and a bookcase in the corner, but otherwise no more furniture besides the large, historic desk that had two phones sitting on it - one for calls from the President, and one for everybody else.

Currently, everybody was huddled around a large map of the city which was propped up next to the desk, (everybody, in this case, being five older white dudes in suits). They were arguing about blocking bridges and roads when Beca and company entered.

"John, look," said Gail excitedly. "Warren is here! Didn't I tell you everything was going to be alright? And you were worried the city was about to die!"

"Warren!" said the man Gail had addressed, and he too strode across the room to embrace Beca's Dad with more warmth than she had shown him in years. "Thank god. We are in a real fix here, buddy."

Her Dad turned back to them. "Kids, I'm sure you know the Mayor of New York, John Smith, and his deputy Mayor, Gail Abernathy-McKadden."

"We're not kids," said Beca sharply, stepping forward to offer the Mayor her own hand. "How do you do, Mr Mayor. I'm Beca Mitchell, this is Jessie Swanson, Benji Applebaum and Fat Amy - she calls herself that, it's an empowerment thing - and we are the Ghostbusters. We know there's been an unusual disturbance in your city, but we assure you that we are fully equipped to deal with it."

The Mayor held her gaze for a second, then let loose a laugh.

"Good lord. Is this what college makes of young women nowadays? You can't just say 'Ghostbusters' as though it's a real occupation. Real jobs have names like 'steel worker' or 'mailman'. Hell, even 'YouTuber' is more legitimate than 'Ghostbuster'."

Beca hastily retrieved her outstretched hand and nodded. "And now I get why you're friends with my father."

The Mayor shook his head again like she was just too much. "Anyway, Gail, where's this other guy? Didn't you say his name was Buster-something? Buster Rhymes, maybe? Or am I making that up? Isn't that musician?"

"If Buster Rhymes is coming too," said Amy, "then this apocalypse event just got awesome."

The door flew open again. "I'm here!" said Bumper, his Trebles jacket half off and his hair all mussed up. "I made it. I'm here to talk to the Mayor. And it's Bumper, sir. Bumper Allen."

"Much like 'Ghostbusters', I'm not sure that's a real name," said the Mayor. "But why don't you whipper-snappers tell me why my city is currently going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?"

Benji cleared his throat nervously. "Well, I guess it's best to start at the very beginning. Around 2001, Columbia Records signed a young recording artist named John Mayer - "

Jesse put a halting hand on his arm. "Oh man, that's way too far back."

As Beca buried her face in her hands, Bumper elbowed Jesse and Benji out of the way to stand before the Mayor and his advisors.

"Here's the deal, these losers are committing straight up treason. They're obsessed with this one building uptown that they're planning to blow up. And all this ghost stuff is just a cover. They use hypnosis or maybe some kind of gas that makes people think they're seeing werewolves and stuff, so when these idiotsshown up and perform their lame electronic light show, people actually pay them for it! Money which all funnels back into their primary goal of blowing up some random apartment building on Central Park West. You just have to follow the money, Mr Mayor!"

His ranting, arm-flailing delivery did him no favours. Beca softly stepped forward again.

"Okay, so what actually happened is this: we've been removing paranormal entities from households and business around the city for weeks now, and storing them in our high-tech containment unit."

"Everything was fine with our systems," Jesse added, "until our power was shut off by this young gentleman, who, as my colleague Benji alluded to, has a seriously unhealthy devotion to the singer-songwriter John Mayor."

Bumper clenched his jaw and threw out an accusatory finger at the Ghostbusters. "Don't listen to them, they're terrorists!"

The Mayor turned to Beca. "Is this true?"

Beca nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so. I recommend this man be prohibited from getting within 25 feet of John Mayer, for Mr Mayer's own safety."

Bumper glared. "You know, you're just lucky that I'm above hitting a girl except that I'm not!"

He lunged at Beca, who was totally ready for him and went low to try and take him down, MMA-style. Jesse, Benji, and the Mayor's staff rushed forward to break them apart and drag them to opposite sides of the room. (Amy made it look like she was helping, but only so she could get in two or three hard kicks to Bumper's shins.)

"For god's sake," said the Mayor, sitting himself down on the edge of his desk in exasperation. "I have a city tearing itself apart, kids barely over the legal drinking age going at it in my office, and I'm honestly not even sure I know who John Mayer is. Warren, help me out here."

"My daughter is many things," said Dr Mitchell, "but she's not a terrorist."

"Love you too, Dad," Beca deadpanned.

"But I can't in good conscience endorse this whole 'ghost' business."

"Of course you can't," Beca bitterly replied. "Your honor, please let the record show that my father considers anything I do with my life that wasn't his idea to be a mistake."

Dr Mitchell gave an offended huff. "Your honor, let the record show that my daughter has never seized any of the countless opportunities she was afforded." (The Mayor looked between them in confusion. "Nobody is keeping a record here, guys.") "I mean, for god's sake Bec I got you a free ride to one of the top universities in the world and you couldn't even stick with that. How are we to trust in this ghost busting business if you never see anything through to the end?"

"Because this is the very first thing I've ever chosen for myself and not had forced upon by you!" Beca fired back. "I gritted my teeth through as much soccer practice and violin lessons and college courses as I could take, but I never wanted any of those things! We built this company out of nothing. We help people. And today, we happen to be the only four losers in the whole city that can save it from sinking down into the tenth level of hell. Would it honestly kill you have the tiniest bit of faith in my own decisions? Even at the end of the world?"

Dr Mitchell had fire in his eyes and indignation on his face, but he couldn't muster a response. He seemed unable to hold Beca's gaze as the Mayor let out a very bored sigh.

"See, this is what happens when you don't spank your children."

Gail nodded. "It just teaches respect, is what it does, John."

"Exactly! Gail, tell them what age were you spanked up until."

"My twenty fourth birthday, and not a day before," she proudly replied.

"With respect, Mr Mayor," said Jesse, getting back on topic, "we don't need Dr Mitchell's endorsement anymore. The time for scepticism is over. New York City is in the middle of a supernatural cataclysm."

Bumper scoffed. "Gimmie a break. I told you, your honor, it's all a trick with mirrors or something."

The Mayor nodded thoughtfully. "Well, normally I'd be inclined to agree with you, but I've been getting some really weird reports today. Ghost dogs chasing frisbees in the park, long dead politicians holding press conferences, and " - he turned to Gail again - "what was it again that's happening at the 99th Precinct out in Brooklyn?"

"Oh," she said, quickly pulling up the report on her phone. "The walls were bleeding."

The Mayor turned back to Bumper. "Bleeding walls! Explain that one, little mister."

Benji cleared his throat awkwardly, opened his mouth to make his appeal, but found Amy shouldering him out of the way.

"Okay fine! If you want my thoughts on the situation, I'll give them to you. Look, Mr Mayor, I may not be a US citizen - though I am 100% here legally, and I have paperwork to back that up - but I think me and you are a lot alike."

The Mayor gave her a dubious glance. "That's perhaps a whole other debate…"

"Whatever," Amy continued. "The point is, I've only been a Ghostbuster for a few days, and before that I wouldn't have believed any of this either. I'm not superstitious. I don't believe in aliens, or Bigfoot, or the solar system."

"Maybe get to the point sometime soon, buddy," Beca suggested.

"But let me tell you something: ghosts are real. Since I've joined this company I have seen things that, to be blunt, will make you shit your pants. And that's not a metaphor. I've been suffering from incontinence since the day I was hired. Granted, I'm waiting on the results of a blood test in relation to this, but I'm pretty certain the ghosts are the main culprit."

In the seconds after that statement hung in the air, Jesse turned to Beca. "We're boned," he said.

One of the Mayor's advisors, a young, gangly gentlemen, answered his ringing cellphone, went very pale, and then turned to his boss.

"Um, sir? The situation at 55 Central Park West is… escalating."

"Escalating how?"

"Well, there, uh, appear to be regular earthquakes happening in the immediate vicinity, and very strange clouds that seem to be forming right above the building."

"Fantastic," said the Mayor, throwing his hands into the air and pacing around his desk. "Just excellent! I tell ya, this was not what I signed up for. This was supposed to be a sweet gig." He pointed at Gail. "You said I would be president in five years time!"

Gail grabbed him the lapels and shook him. "You will be president, John, I still believe that!"

Beca turned sharply to the advisor. "They evacuated the building, though, right? Got everybody out?"

He shook his head. "The police say there's two people up on the roof that won't come down."

Jesse caught Beca's gaze. "Chloe and Aubrey."

Beca stormed towards the Mayor. "Okay, you are officially out of options, dude. Something very old and very evil is about to drop into this world, and if you don't let us find a way to stop it, shit is about to get biblical in New York City."

The Mayor threw out his arms in exasperation. "What does that even mean?"

Jesse rushed forward too. "Think Old Testament style chaos. Real wrath of God type stuff. Fire and brimstone, rivers and seas boiling."

Benji came over with a decorative bible he'd picked up from the Mayor's bookcase. "Earthquakes, volcanoes," he said, flipping through the pages, "plagues, famine, pretty sure there's human sacrifices in here somewhere…"

"Eternal darkness," Amy joined in, "corpses climbing out of their graves…"

"No more Marvel movies," Beca added, "demigods walking the earth, with their own reality shows on E! - mass hysteria!"

The Mayor glared at each of the four Ghostbusters. "The only hysteria around here is coming from the four of you! Now you'll lower your voice when you talk to me or I'll bend each and every one of you over my knee and give you a good hiding, end-of-the-world or no end-of-the-world."

"She's telling the truth," said a quiet voice from the back of the room, and though Beca knew who it belonged to, she still turned around to stare at her Dad in disbelief. He looked up at her with a weird mix of both wonderment and sadness. "I've never seen you this passionate about anything. Ever. This is all real, isn't it? It's the end of the world?"

"Yeah," she said. "It is."

He looked away, nodding. And after a thinking about it for a second, he looked to the Mayor. "If she says she can stop it, I trust her."

A stunned silence followed, broken only by Bumper's derisive snort. "Her Dad says we should believe her - shocker! No offence, but this touchy, feely fluff won't stand up in court once they set off their big super huge bomb thingy."

The Mayor did not respond. He was looking at Dr Mitchell very intently, before his eyes flicked over to Beca.

"What if you're wrong?"

Beca pondered that for a second. "Well, aside from the bigger stuff, it means a girl pretended to be possessed to get out of going to dinner with me. So that's gonna take some time to process. But mostly, if we're wrong than nothing happens. The sun comes up tomorrow just like normal, and you can send us to prison."

Bumper raised a hand. "I second that proposal."

"But if we're right," Beca said, cocking her head to side thoughtfully, reeling the Mayor in, "and we can stop this thing, then you'll be the Mayor who held back Armageddon. And I don't know about you, but that sounds like a pretty good campaign slogan for 2020."

A gasp escaped Gail. "I can see the bumper stickers!" she whispered.

The Mayor's cold, contemplative gaze aimed directly at Beca gradually became the smallest of smiles. Bumper saw this, cleared his throat and raised his hand.

"So just to be clear, you're not going to lock them all up?"

"No," the Mayor replied.

Bumper shrugged. "Well, it was worth a shot. I'm out of here, I got an A Capella Championship to win in like two hours, so you losers have fun with your little séance or exorcism or whatever it is you do. Peace out!"

And with that, he was gone. The Mayor frowned at the door he'd swaggered out of.

"What on earth is 'A Capella'?"

"Never mind," said Beca. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna need a few things from you."

Every government official with a badge and a uniform descended on City Hall. Jesse caught a cab to the Firehouse, returning with an Ecto-1 full of proton packs, Beca and Benji helped officers decide which city blocks to evacuate and where to set up their perimeter, while Amy personally interviewed the members of the National Guard that had been drafted in by the Mayor, insisting they perform a few push-ups in front of her to ensure they were in fighting shape.

Within an hour, they were ready to roll. As she exited City Hall in her Ghostbusters uniform, Beca found two cop cars and a truck load of soldiers waiting to escort them to the apartment building from hell.

"I hope you're up to this," came her Dad's voice, as he walked down the steps of City Hall. "Because some people are seriously questioning the Mayor's decision on this one."

Beca smirked. "Kinda makes me miss the days when it was only your expectations I had to live up to."

"My expectations never included anything like this," he said, looking over to the Ecto, where Benji was checking the instruments on the roof while Jesse secured all their equipment in the back. Beca watched him try and make sense of it all. "I still don't really believe what's happening…"

Beca shrugged. "We don't have time to convince you. The only people who have a shot at stopping all this is us."

"I know," he said. "That's the only part of it I do believe. You look… sure. Of all this. Of yourself. It's a good look for you."

"Thanks. But there's a lot more going on here. People that I was supposed to protect are messed up in this. That girl I told you about, remember?"

"Chloe," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. "You really like her, huh?"

"The point," said Beca, neatly sidestepping his question, "is that I promised her we'd fix things before they ever got this far. I gotta make this right while there's still time."

"I hope you do," he said. "I hope to meet her."

"Yeah," said Beca. "Me too." And while the idea of Chloe and her Dad in the same room freaked her out, so did the idea that one of them might not get the chance. Just picturing it filled her blood with focus and urgency. She headed towards the cars, stopping just next to the Ecto-1 to tell her Dad: "Thanks. For your help back there. Without you, I'm not sure they'd ever believe we weren't crazy."

"Oh, they still think you're crazy," said Dr Mitchell. "I just convinced them you weren't dangerous."

"Yeah, well…" Beca opened the car door and smirked. "Guess again."

As soon as she was in the passenger seat next to him, Jesse started the engine.

"We good to go?" asked Beca.

Jesse and Benji nodded sternly and silently, focused on the task at hand. Only Amy spoke, meeting Beca's eyes in the rear-view mirror and saying, "Let's run some lights.