Chapter 18

Luan And BJ

Before Luan and Beetlejuice had discovered that her siblings had vacated the premises, a most unusual sight could be seen driving down Franklin Avenue. A stretch limousine, coasting slowly down the road. Such a thing hadn't been seen since the Loud boy had won a ride in a limo. So it was only natural that Mr Grouse looked up and noticed the limo slowly rolling along. Not really being one to mind his own business, he walked down to the road, where the driver rolled down the window. "Excuse me, sir...do you happen to know where to find the residence of Mr Lincoln Loud?" The overly snooty looking man behind the wheel inquired.

"What's it to ya?" The grouchy old man asked with a frown.

"Miss Brewster wishes to see him, but we only have a general idea of his abode." The driver explained. "She has been...most eager to see him again." He continued, though he was tempted to say what was really on his mind.

"Eh...he lives next door." He grumbled, pointing to the Loud House.

"Finally!" Claire shouted, kicking the vehicle door open and leaping out of the car. Last time she and Lincoln had been together, she had openly shown her disgust at his nerdish hobbies. However, while she still felt the same way about his liking comic books and video games, she still couldn't take her mind off of him. She still found him a cutie, in spite of his being a nerd. She thought she could probably train that out of him, and turn him into the ideal boyfriend for her. She just needed to find him.

"Hey, kid, you don't want to do that!" Mr Grouse called out. "Don't you-"

"Ugh...why is this crusty old geezer trying to talk to me!?" She responded rudely with a voice of disgust, speaking to no one in particular. Usually, this would get the goat of the elderly gentleman. Today, however, he just shrugged and walked over to his garage. Moments later, he came out with a large stool, a bottle of pop, and a jumbo bucket of popcorn. Curious, Jeeves emerged from the limo and walked up to Mr Grouse as he set his seat up by the fence.

"Pardon my asking, sir, but what are you doing?"

"Pull up a stool, Mr Belvedere. This is going to be good." The Louds' grouchiest neighbor responded with a smirk. Around this point, Claire had gotten to the door and was knocking on it quite aggressively. After a few seconds, Luan came to the door to answer it.

"Hello?" She asked as she looked down at the spoiled rich blonde girl.

"About time. Where's Lincoln!?" Miss Brewster demanded to know.

"Uh...who are you?" Luan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Claire Brewster. THE Claire Brewster. I'm sure your master has told you about me. Now go get him. Chop chop!" The little brat said, clapping her hands.

"Master? Lincoln isn't my-"

"Ugh...how could Lincoln's family have such incompetent help...not to mention being such a fashion disaster…" Claire groaned in disgust. "Get! Master! Lincoln! NOW!" She yelled, speaking very slowly as if she were berating someone slow. Luan just looked at her with a deadpan, yet unamused look before glancing toward Beetlejuice, who just looked all kinds of hacked off. Then, the two of them sported grins that could rival The Grinch.

"Come on in, Miss Brewster." The fourth oldest sister said, stepping back to let her in. "And, by the way, Lincoln is my brother, not master."

"Whatever." The little brat responded, striding inside as she attempted to shove the comedienne aside. She look one look inside the house and scoffed. "Drab, lower class and unacceptably blah…" she criticized disdainfully.

"Lincoln is probably up in his room." Luan told her, not paying her harsh words any mind. "Top of the stairs, last door on the right." She grinned as the blonde haired, blue eyed teen sniffed at her then climbed the stairs.

"...what's all this!?" Claire screamed when she saw all the little red cups full of water in the hall. The aspiring clown calmly climbed up to her and looked down at the sea of cups.

"Well, I'll be damped. Hahaha!" Luan joked, though Claire wasn't amused. "Looks like some joker set up a little obstacle course for you."

"Well, deal with it!" The wealthy pest demanded, pointing at all the water.

"Nope." She responded simply.

"What!?"

"Not the servant, not my problem. Hope you're thirsty." Luan commented, turning her back on her. "Oh, and be careful. In our house, we have a rule: you make a mess, YOU clean it up." She warned her without looking at her. All the pity, as her face was turning a lovely shade of red. "Water you waiting for. Lincoln's waiting." She finished before she strolled back downstairs to wait and listen with Beetlejuice. Claire looked about ready to have a conniption, but there was nothing she could do. If she wanted to see the young man who refused to leave her mind, she had to drink her way through. She picked up the first glass and took a sip...and spit it out.

"Tap water!?" She exclaimed as if she had drank mud. She could hear Luan laughing from downstairs, as well as a voice she didn't quick recognize...or did she? Anyway, at this point, she wanted to spite that beaver toothed fashion nightmare as well as get to Lincoln at this point, so she braced herself and started to drink through the cups of water. After a few minutes of constant drinking, she reached the door, smirking with victory. She opened the door...and no one was there. What's more, Lincoln's room looked more like a servant's quarters. She was shocked and horrified. She ran back to the top of the stairs before screaming down the stairs. "What are you trying to pull!?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Luan asked with a fake expression of innocence.

"He's not up here!"

"He's not? Well, perhaps he's out back then." The ponytailed prankster suggested with a shrug. Claire was about to run down there and seriously lambaste Luan, but the moment she took her first step, she felt the call of nature. The little brat winced, crossing her legs a bit.

"Uh...like, where is the bathroom?" She inquired nervously.

"The room opposite to Lincoln's in the hall." Miss Brewster looked down the other end of the corridor, which was littered with water cups. She whimpered a bit, but then got an idea. She started to pick up the cups and move them over in front of Lincoln's empty room, careful not to spill much more than a few drops.

"Hmmm...she's not as dumb as she looks." Luan commented quietly to Beetlejuice.

"That'd be impossible." BJ quipped, the two of them snickering under their breaths. "So how'd you rig the toilet?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything to the toilet."

"Huh?".

"Doing the hall of water and trapping the can? That's too cruel. The least I can do is let the prankee relieve themselves." She explained, getting a disapproving look from the ghost with the most. Before he could scold her, they heard the spray of water and Claire screaming from the bathroom. "The sink, on the other hand...set to spray and pray." She quipped, which brought a new wave of mirth to her spectral friend. They could hear Claire storming down the stairs, giving BJ the signal to change forms, looking like a young, nine year old boy version of himself.

"What the heck is up with that sink!?" The brat screeched.

"Oh dear. This old house...am I right?" Luan said innocently, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"You better do something about this! I'm all wet!"

"You said it. I didn't." Beetlejuice fired back with a grin.

"Good one, Cousin BJ." Luan told him, giving him a high five. The bratty blonde could have swore she heard that name before, but she was too furious to really consider it. "As for you, Claire…"

"It's Missus Brewster to you, peasant." She snapped snobbily.

"...Claire." Luan repeated, just to further irritate her. "Come with me. We'll get you a robe and get your clothes dried." The family prankster put a hand on the wealthy pest's back as she directed her to her and Luna's room, leaving 'Cousin BJ' to wait out in the hall. After a few moments, Luan held out Claire's wet clothes on a coat hanger. "Would you be so kind, cuz?"

"Delighted, Cousin Luan." Beetlejuice replied, taking the dampened garments and flying off toward the basement.

"Remember! It's dry clean only!" Claire yelled from the room, currently donning one of Luan's bathrobes. She normally wouldn't be caught dead in anything that didn't come from Paris, New York or Beverly Hills, but it was that or be stuck in Lincoln's house in her underwear, so she had to deal with it.

"Well, anyway, like I said, Linc is probably out back." Luan told the pouting little princess wanna be, looking toward the door out. Claire took one step toward the door, then paused. Number one: she remembered what was out there and wasn't about to take that route again. And number two: she couldn't let the white haired little nerd see her like this. No doubt it would get his attention, but she had a reputation to uphold. Fortunately (or so she thought), there was a window facing the backyard in Luan and Luna's room. Smirking a bit when she thought she had a safe method of checking, she strolled over, opened the window and leaned outside. She looked out at the cluttered mess that was the backyard and cringed.

"Ugh. What a filthy mess." She commented rudely. "And still no sign of Lincoln." Just then, the window snapped shut on her, leaving her front half hanging outside and her lower half inside. She screamed the moment she was trapped, struggling to pull herself free. The ponytailed prankster grinned as she crossed her arms in front of her, watching as four brooms connected to a wheel descended from above. As soon as it reached where Claire was stuck, the wheel started to spin, along with the brooms, smacking the little brat in the backside. Each strike caused her to get pushed a little further through the window. "Ow ow ow ow ow! What's going on in there!?" She yelled, kicking her legs back with the hopes of hitting a non-existent attacker.

"Oh, just someone being a pain in the butt. Hahahaha!" She quipped before laughing. 'Beetlejuice, you're brilliant.' She thought to herself, as the prank trap finally launched Claire through the window and toward the backyard, screeching like a banshee. She was headed right for Lana's mud puddle. She closed her eyes in fear and covered her face, bracing herself for the murky impact...only to land in a big pile of pillows. She blinked as she stuck her head out from the pile, looking down at the cushions, then over at the mud puddle only inches away. She could have swore they weren't there before, but she wasn't complaining (for once). She breathed a sigh of relief.

"My luck must be turning around…" The moment she voiced that opinion, each and every pillow exploded, leaving a heap of down with some VERY angry eyes in their place.

"How's the feather out there?" Luan asked jokingly from the upstairs window, laughing her head off. She wasn't the only one either. Beetlejuice was busting a gut as he watched from the basement window, and Mr Grouse enjoyed a healthy dose of schadenfreude at Claire's expense. Even her servant, Jeeves, found it impossible to hold back his mirth at watching the little brat get just what she deserved. Claire was furious as she stomped out of the hill of plumes, storming toward the door (careful to navigate around Lana's homemade swamp). A few steps away from the porch, she felt her foot tread upon a rope. She blinked, looked down at the cord, then behind her. She turned just in time to see a glob of mud headed right for her. She cried in fear and ducked quickly, narrowly avoiding an unwanted mud mask. Thinking she was safe, she smirked smugly and turned back to the triggered trap, a catapult concealed in the waller.

"Ha!" She scoffed, sticking her tongue out at the used trebuchet. Because of this, she never saw the second catapult until her face, and tongue, were caked in muck and mire. The scream that followed could have shattered glass, were she indoors. She coughed, spat and sputtered, trying to get the overly moistened dirt out of her mouth.

"Bet that left a bad taste in your mouth!" Mr Grouse yelled from his yard.

"Hahahaha. Took the words right out of my mouth, neighbor." Luan called out to him. The heat from Claire's face (as a result of her rage and embarrassment) was enough to make the mud dry out and fall in flakes off her head. She had pure, unadulterated wrath in her eyes as she kicked the back door open into the kitchen.

"When I get my hands on that bucked toothed little b-" She started, but she never got to finish her thought. The first tile she stepped upon inside the kitchen triggered a pressure plate, which caused the sprayer in the kitchen sink to shoot a jet of water right into her face. She staggered to the side as she was spritzed, coughing up water as if she had her head ducked in a lake. With her weight removed from the plate, the water stopped spraying. However, she ended up stepping on a new trigger, which spawned a giant fan. Once it was activated, the force of the wind blew her clear across the kitchen, right into the opposite wall, next to the passage leading to the dining room.

"Towel?" BJ inquired, holding a cloth towel out to Claire with the biggest grin on his face. Without even looking at him, she snatched the towel from his hand, peeled herself off the wall, and started to dry her face off.

"Well, at least the mud came off...thank goodness…" Claire commented.

"That's not all that came off!" The mean spirited spirit informed her, his eyes covered as he pointed at her. The well to do snob paused as she was drying her face and looked down. Her face went a glowing crimson as she saw the robe was gone and she had large black bars marked 'CENSORED' across her torso and hips. She moved her arms to cover herself...and found the bars were made of cloth and cardboard. She looked behind herself and sighed with relief. It was just some gag swimsuit...one she knew she hadn't put on. Her momentarily musing was muddled by 'Cousin BJ' laughing at her.

"You little punk!" She screamed, her fists clenched, ready to pummel the ghost with the most. However, he took to his heels and fled out of the kitchen, laughing all the way. She gave a loud "UGH!" of frustration as she went to go recollect the robe. Turned out, it was on top of the fridge. The fridge with a sign saying 'DO NOT OPEN'. "Hmph. You can't tell Claire Brewster what to do!" She declared, reaching for the door.

"...you'll be soooooorry." Luan said quietly to her pranking partner, trying (and failing) to hold back her gleeful chortles. The spoiled brat opened the fridge and her pupils shrank. A gaze of plush raccoons turned to look at her from inside the icebox, looking surprised at first, then hostile after a second.

"Uh...nice raccoons?" She said nervously, just before the five living toys pounced, knocking her to the ground as they bit her with their soft teeth and scratched with their felt claws. While neither was doing any major damage, it still felt like a mild rug burn and it was still a terrifying experience for her. "AAAAAAAH! Get off me! Get off me!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Great job hiding those in the fridge, partner!" Luan said through her hysterics, high fiving BJ.

"Ain't I a stinker?" Beetlejuice asked, turning into a giant skunk. He had to change back quickly, as Claire was quickly throwing the plushies away from her and he was concerned she was going to come for them after she got free. However, after she had tossed the last toy, she found herself very parched. All that screaming really dried her throat something fierce. Turning to the open fridge, she found a bottle of a red liquid. It looked like tomato juice. Not a favorite of hers, but at this point, she needed a drink that wasn't tap water. She grabbed the bottle, popped the top and started to guzzle it down. About half way through the bottle, she realized she made a SERIOUS error as her tongue, mouth and throat seemed to catch fire. She spat out the tabasco and made a grab for the carton of milk. Normally, she would get a glass, but she was in such agony, she didn't care about breach of protocol. She started to chug directly from the carton...only to get a mouth full of chunky, old milk. Her cheeks turned a sickly green as she started to taste the rancid milk, but them a glob of it emerged from the carton, giving her a flattered look.

"Awww. I didn't know you cared~"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Claire screeched, spitting out the glop before screaming bloody redrum again. It was then she heard Luan and BJ nearly breathless from laughter. Her fury bubbled over as she stopped her way to the opening leading into the living room. "YOU!"

"Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Yep, it's me alright. Been me all day."

"You insolent little peon! I will have Lincoln fire you for this!"

"I can't be fired. I'm family, not the help." Luan retorted as she finally started to calm down.

"Ugh! You know what! I don't care! I'm going to get my clothes and LEAVE!" The wealthy, yet unruly child snapped before she started stomping toward the basement.

"About time." Beetlejuice commented, grinning ear to ear.

"Ooooo. What have your rigged in the basement?" An eager Luan asked.

"Well...you remember what she said about dry clean only?" Before the funny sister could answer, a roar of outright wrath so loud it could be confused for an air raid siren came from the cellar.

"...you didn't…" Luan said while feigning a gasp. BJ simply grinned as Claire returned on the warpath, waving her doll sized designer clothes around as she was pretty much choking on her anger. The fun loving teen had a big grin on her face as she saw this, which only made the the entitled little blonde even angrier (if that were even possible). She went right off on her, yelling loudly, her words somewhat muddled from her rage and the volume of her yelling.

"Use your big girl words." She told her in a somewhat condescending tone. This was enough to throw Claire over the edge, the brat lunging at her. Luan ducked, watching as she sailed over her head and land right on the back of the couch. She thrashed around on the couch like an infant throwing a tantrum until she rolled over the back and landed on the couch. The moment she landed, a large, heavy boot sprang up from between the cushions, sending her flying right for the bay window. Her voice was so hoarse from her endless screaming, she simply covered her face, bracing for impact. Fortunately for her, BJ used his magic to open the window. Not only that, it looked like she was headed right for a big, comfy cushion. She was just starting to relax...only for her to faceplant right into the law just inches from a comfy landing, looking like an ostrich.

"Hmmm. My measurements were off. She must have put on weight." Beetlejuice commented. Outside, Mr Grouse was laughing harder than he had in a long time, with Jeeves slapping his knee right alongside him.

"And that is why you never want to go into that house on April Fools Day." The old man said matter of factly as Claire pulled her head from the sod.

"You can't do this to me! I am Claire Brewster! I will sue you both into utter oblivion!" She screeched from the front lawn. It was at this point a police officer came strolling by: a tall man with somewhat pale skin and gelled back yellowish green hair. He looked over at the young lady, raising an eyebrow from behind his mirrored shades. She turned around with the intent of getting back into the limo when she saw the patrolman. "Officer! Arrest that horrible girl and even more horrible boy!" She demanded, pointing toward the open window where Luan was leaning against the sill, watching the scene unfold. The boy in blue looked up at her silently, then toward a sign on the end of the front lawn (one Claire didn't recall seeing there before), then back to the raving and ranting teen girl. He pulled out his ticket book and started to write on it before handing her a slip of paper from it. Confused, she looked down at the ticket. "...indecent exposure!?" The officer simply pointed to the two large censored bars on her. "It's a swimsuit, you idiot!" She screamed right into his face; a move which didn't even get him to flinch. It did, however, get her a new ticket. "...disturbing the peace!?" Her face was almost purple with rage as the officer calmly tipped his hat to her and strolled off without saying a word. He did, however, cover his mouth to hide his snickers. Fuming, the spoiled Brewster stormed over to the sign for a closer look. It said 'Danger. April Fools Day. Enter at your own risk'.

"It's been fun, Claire, but maybe you should take this as a sign to leave. Hahahaha. I'll tell Lincoln you stopped by." Luan called out to her. "Oh, and you can keep the robe." She added as an afterthought, tossing the yellow robe out to her. The self important child grit her teeth as she picked it up, put it on, then hurled the tickets in her hand to the ground, stomping on them like they were on fire.

"Miss Brewster, you really shouldn't be littering." Jeeves told her, unable to resist getting a jab of his own in at this point.

"Like, shut up, Jeeves!" She snapped at him. "Why didn't you tell me about that sign!? And why didn't you even do anything to help me!? You had to have heard me screaming!"

"My apologies, Miss Brewster, but as you told me while we were en route to Michigan, my job is to drive you wherever you like. It's not my job to bother you with, and I quote, whatever drivel comes out of my mouth." He calmly explained to her.

"Your JOB is whatever I tell you it is!" She yelled furiously. "And right now, you're job matches what you are: like, nothing! YOU'RE FIRED!" The snooty gentlemen blinked when he heard this, then he started to smile, much to Claire's shock.

"R...really?" He inquired, his face lighting up even more. The selfish young lady slowly nodded, having trouble processing what she was seeing. "I'm free! I'm FREEEEEE!" Jeeves cheered, pulling off his tie and throwing his hat to the pavement. "No more putting up with those stuff shirts and their impossible daughter!" Claire gasped when she heard this, very clearly offended. "No more long hours of torment for a meager paycheck! I'm free! I'm free!" He started prancing down the street, singing joyously about his newly gained unemployment. The spoilt teen just stood there, gaping as he skipped out of sight. She just didn't understand it. She fired him. He no longer gets to bask in her glory, for Mommy and Daddy's money. Why is he treating it like it was the greatest gift she could have given him?

"Well, that was smart." Mr Grouse said with a grin. "How do you plan to get home now?" Claire was about to bite his head off, but she quickly realized he was right. Now she had no one to drive the limo. How WAS she going to get back to Peaceful Pines? "Oh, and you better move that thing soon. It's blocking my driveway." He added as a parting shot, pointing to how the nose of the stretch limo was covering over half the old man's driveway. The young lady looked like she was about to explode again, but then slumped her shoulders and sighed in defeat. She didn't have any steam left to throw another tantrum as Mr Grouse took his stool, his empty bottle and half eaten popcorn back into his garage. She pulled her phone from the robe pocket (where she had placed it after she had changed earlier) and stepped inside the limo to make a phone call

"Hello Daddy...yes, I'm in Michigan...no, I didn't see him...the reason I called is...I fired Jeeves. Yes...yes, again." She said in a glum tone, . "...how soon can you send someone new?...that long? Well...the limo may end up towed before then...yes, again. Thank you for understanding, Daddy...no. I'll wait here. I came this far to find Lincoln, I'm not giving up now. I'll just find a nice hotel and wait for the new driver to get here...yes, love you and Mummy too, Daddy. Good bye." She sighed again as she pulled her suitcases from the trunk and changed into something more decent inside the car; a pink paris original dress and heels. She couldn't bring everything with her as she strolled sadly down the street, leaving a good chunk of her cosmetics in the trunk of the soon to be towed limo. She eventually came to a bus stop, where she eventually sat down on the bench, her head in her hands. "How the mighty have fallen...Claire Brewster, forced to take...the bus." She monologued in disgust. She didn't even notice the tough looking young man in the leather jacket beside her, who looked like he was in a foul mood of his own, nor the monkey tail sticking out the back of his jeans. He glanced over at her angrily.

"Well, excuse me, princess…" He commented derisively. "It's how we normal folks have to get around."

"Don't start with me, punk...I'm in no mood." She warned him, looking down at her heels as they waited for the bus.

"Hmph. What happened to you? Someone step on your heels?"

"Don't even kid about that…" She growled before she continued. "...no. I came all this way to see a boy, but not only was he not home, but I suffered the most terrible indignities inside that hovel they call a house."

"Yea?" The greaser wanna be asked, leaning back against the bench and crossing his legs in front of him. "What's his name?"

"His name is Lincoln Loud." Upon hearing that name, the leather clad young man scowled.

"Lincoln Loud!?" He nearly yelled, his hands clenching into fists.

"You know him?" Claire asked, finally looking toward the young man beside him.

"Know him!? Because of him, his sisters, and that one guy, my reputation is ruined!" He ranted, slamming his fist against the steel bench, putting a big dent in it. "I was once the strongest, toughest kid in the school. But thanks to Loud, my pack is disbanded and my status as strongest and toughest is long dead…" He sighed in frustration, looking toward the spoiled brat beside him. "Name's Bison, by the way."

"Claire Brewster." She replied. It was then she noticed he had a tail. "Eek! What is that!?"

"Oh...that came from that one guy…" Bison replied, glaring at the simian tail with pure loathing. "When I tried to teach Loud a lesson for messing with me, he called for him...what was his name? Started with a B...Beetle something...Beetlejuice! That's it." Claire felt a little sick when she heard him say that...but she knew she had heard that name before.

"Beetlejuice…? I've heard Lydia say that before...disgusting word…"

"You know the guy?"

"Well, no. I didn't know it was a name. I just thought it was that little freak's way of just being gross...ugh."

"...so what happened between you and Loud?"

"Well, the last time we met, I thought he was the most charming individual…" She started to say, ignoring the snickers from the boy beside he on the bench. "...until I learned he was actually a nerd in disguise."

"Nerd. Yeah, that sounds like him alright."

"Well, I thought I wanted nothing more to do with him...but I can't get him out of my mind. So, I came all this way to find him. I felt I could easily train him out of those horrid hobbies and into something more respectable." She elaborated. "However, once I arrived at his house, I was greeted by this hideous woman with braces...she sent me through a literal house of horrors…"

"Woman with braces? Yeah, that's one of his sisters…" Bison confirmed, nodding slightly. "A real looney around April Fools."

"Don't I know it…" Claire replied angrily.

"It sounds to me like you both have much in common." A deep, mysterious voice from behind them said softly, causing Claire to shriek and jump, while Bison simply looked back. Behind the bench was someone in a very large dark gray trench coat and hat. The hat was pulled in such a way to completely obscure their face.

"Don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop…" The tough boy said, cracking his knuckles.

"My apologies. I couldn't help but overhear what you said." Said another voice from the same person, this one more high pitched and squeaky.

"Like, why are you doing that?" Claire asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Doing what?" The first voice inquired in confusion.

"Nevermind...what did you mean by we have much in common?"

"Well, you both have a history with Mr Loud, as well as his sisters." The second voice explained, leaning against the back of the bench so they could speak more quietly. "And you've both had experiences with Beetlejuice." This got both of their attention immediately. This stranger knew this Beetlejuice guy!?

"How would you like a chance to get back at the both of them?" The first voice asked the two of them.

"...keep talking." Claire and Bison said together, somewhat intrigued.