"Dave, come on we're going to be late!" Lisa Miller called to her boyfriend from the front hall of their shared apartment. "The party's address is at least an hour away and I think we can both agree that we don't want to be late for this one!"
"Do we have to?" Dave Nelson whined as he reluctantly wandered down the hall lazily. "I mean, who has a costume party in January? And in New Hampshire?"
Lisa saw him and instantly burst into hysterical laughter. "Oh my God, what the hell are you supposed to be?"
Dave was clad in what was perhaps the flounciest and fanciest white silk blouse Lisa had ever seen, a pair of black leather pants, boots that reached up to above his knees, and a crazy blonde wig and sparkly, glittery makeup all over his face. "I just so happen to be Jareth the Goblin King from Labyrinth, you uncultured swine. And what are you, Eleanor Roosevelt?"
Lisa was dressed in a long, navy-blue cotton jacket and long skirt, ankle-length black boots, and a black blouse, while her long dark hair was tied up into a severe bun beneath a wide-brimmed hat. "Nellie Bly, about to go on her big 'round the world tour," she smirked as she gave a little twirl. "And you really shouldn't be using cracks like 'uncultured swine' to someone who is both your live-in girlfriend and your ride home, Dave," she added as she gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"I am sorry about that," Dave winced a bit. "I just don't know these roads as well as the rest of you. I mean, look at Matthew, he's been carpooling with Joe and Beth and Max for the past two months, and honestly, I don't think he's ever planning on getting a New Hampshire license."
"What about you? You ever getting a license?"
"I will…!" Dave said as they both grabbed their coats and headed out of the apartment. "You know…when the snow melts…"
Lisa eyed him curiously. "What is it with you and driving in winter weather? Is there some repressed Wisconsin memory of yours that I don't know about?"
"Oh, probably. By the way, did Mr. James tell you anything about this place he's having the party at? He's been really close-lipped on the details and, frankly, it's beginning to disturb me."
"Sadly, no," Lisa shook her head, grimacing. "And I'm the reporter here. I should be able to gleam a few minute details…"
Dave grinned knowingly. "It's killing you, isn't it?"
Lisa responded with a brief growl as they got into her car and she started up the engine. She noticed Dave grinning and asked, "What?"
"You're just so cute when you're annoyed."
…
An hour later, Lisa had turned the car up an overgrown, outdated driveway, to Dave's chagrin.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" He was asking as they continually bounced up and down with every pothole and large crack. "I mean, if this is what the driveway is like-!"
"Dave, will you shut up and let me drive?" Lisa griped as she turned the car to the left and it came out into an open area, the drive in front of them giving way to a space of dust and flattened grass. Their destination lay ahead of them, alongside Mr. James's bright red Jeep, Joe's battered pickup truck and a sleek green Porsche that neither Dave nor Lisa recognized.
Dave and Lisa glared at the scene before them and groaned. "This is the house?!" Dave boggled. "The house from 'The Ghost and Mr. Chicken'?!" The house before them was, though originally Victorian in style and therefore still attractive on some spiritual level, decrepit and falling apart. The roof barely had any shingles left, the paint nearly worn away, the windows shattered and broken.
"Is that another episode of Green Acres?" Lisa asked, shutting down the engine and opening the driver's door and getting out as Dave did the same.
Dave lowered his head, shaking it in dazed amusement, and walked around the car to join her. "Oh, it hurts, it physically hurts…"
"What does?"
"How little you actually know about classic television…and classic comedy films…Seriously, have you never seen a Don Knotts film?"
Lisa gave him a wry look as they walked up the crumbling stairs to the front porch and she pressed an index finger to the door bell. "No, I was busy crushing elementary and middle school, unlike some people I know."
"Ooh! Low blow," Dave chuckled as he took advantage of the fact that, momentarily, they were alone and hugged her from behind, nuzzling her neck. "You know, we can still run to the car, drive home, have a nice peaceful evening…"
"Peaceful? With what you're thinking?" Lisa snuggled into his embrace, giggling.
"Well, it'd be a lot more peaceful than what Mr. James has up his sleeve."
As if summoned magically, the front door opened wide, revealing a grinning, jolly Mr. James, dressed in a pristine white toga that betrayed a lot, a golden laurel wreath atop his red hair, and sandals. "Pumpkin!" He cried, slapping Dave on the shoulder. "Hi, sweetie, you guys come on in, everyone's waiting!" He added, kissing Lisa on the cheek and leading them inside.
"Sir, aren't you cold?" Dave aptly pointed out, noting the frigid chill in the air inside.
"Oh, freezin', but a coat would ruin the image I'm trying to present here, you know," Mr. James sniffed as he led them to the right, into the parlor, a dreary, lifeless room with tattered curtains, peeling wallpaper, and holes in the floorboards.
Suddenly, a large creature popped out before them, snarling and menacing, with outstretched, sickly green tentacles. Lisa screamed and jumped while Dave froze in place, visibly terrified. Eventually, he moved, but only an inch or so and that was to give a cowering Lisa as much protection as possible even in his current state of panic.
"Dave, Lisa! Stop screaming, it's me! Matthew!" The creature screamed, waving its limbs before reaching up and removing its head – to reveal a human head with curly blonde hair, glasses over clueless blue eyes, bathed in sweat. "Guys, it's okay, its me…"
"Matthew!" Dave croaked miserably, his face a mixture of relief and revulsion, as Lisa, still digging her fingernails into his arm as she held on tightly, glared furious daggers at Matthew. "What in God's name are you doing? And what in the hell are you supposed to be?!"
"Uh, duh, I'm one of the aliens from Independence Day," Matthew chuckled dryly, wriggling one of his tentacled hands in front of them. "Isn't that obvious?"
"No, what's obvious is how creepy it is, Matthew," Lisa said with a shudder.
"Not creepy, authentic," Matthew replied, "besides, Dave, wouldn't some people consider your costume creepy?"
"It is not creepy," Dave replied through clenched teeth as he and Lisa headed straight for the waiting dry bar, both in sudden need of a strong drink. "It is elegant and sophisticated and classic."
"Well, I say its weird," Joe Garelli said as he appeared from behind them, eyeing Dave strangely. "Too darn…fancy for my taste."
"Says the melted Terminator," Dave retorted, eyeing the authentic metallic prosthetics that covered one half of Joe's face and most of his body beneath a tattered white t-shirt and ragged jeans.
"Matthew!" Beth scolded as she strode in, dressed in an incredibly risqué nurse costume. "I told you your costume was too scary! You nearly gave Max a heart attack!" She said, gesturing to a still shaken, portly man dressed in a smoking jacket and sporting a fake pencil-thin mustache on his upper lip.
"I'm still not so sure he didn't," Max shrugged, sitting down on a crumbling settee – instantly, his heavy weight caused the frail cushions to fall apart and he fell right through the wooden frame effortlessly. "Oh, perfect! Can someone pull me up before this mess ruins my ensemble?"
"Eh, I got 'im," Joe moaned as he reached down and pulled Max back up onto his feet. "So, Mr. James, what's the big deal with the house from Psycho? Is this really where you're havin' the party?"
"Well," Mr. James chuckled mischievously, rubbing his hands together as he waddled around, making sure everyone gathered around him in a semi-circle. "It's kind of complicated there, Joe. See, we have to wait for our last two guests to get here…Now one of them's Roger, you all remember him, my lawyer, and the other, well, is a bit of a surprise…"
"Really? Who?" Beth asked, chewing a piece of gum.
"That would be me," an attractive African-American woman walked confidently into the room, dressed like the Egyptian queen Cleopatra in a flowing white dress and golden winged crown. "Surprise," Catherine Duke grinned like the Cheshire Cat as her old friends took in her sudden appearance and reacted instantly.
"Catherine!" They all cried in unison as they swarmed around her, giving her warm hugs – all save for Max, who viewed the newcomer suspiciously.
"I can't believe you're here!" Lisa exclaimed as she and Catherine hugged. "How did Mr. James get you all the way out here?"
"Yeah, I always figured you preferred London to the middle of nowhere," Beth smirked.
"Well, Jimmy made me an offer I just couldn't refuse…" Catherine winked at her former boss, who responded in kind. "Did Roger tell you what's up yet?"
"No, I don't think he's here yet," Dave said, instantly feeling suspicion gnawing at his very being. Something was up, he could sense it.
Matthew, meanwhile, was crying as he embraced a somewhat reluctant Catherine. "I can't believe we're all here together!" He wailed, refusing Lisa and Joe's attempts to tear him away from Catherine. "Well, almost all of us…"
"Yeah, it's a little bit weird without Bill," Catherine mentioned before noticing Max glowering at her from a waiting corner. "Well, Max Louis! It's been a long while…"
"Hello, Catherine," Max greeted her in a tone so suave and smooth that everyone else but Catherine did a double take and stare at him in confusion. "You look good…"
Adding further to the confusion, Catherine chuckled in response as she and Max hugged. Dave watched them and questioned, "So you guys know each other…? Good to know…" He rejoined Lisa, who was observing Catherine and Max closely. "Are you as creeped out by this as I am?"
"Yes, yes I am," Lisa responded, nodding her head excitedly. "You don't think they…?" Their faces scrunched up in disgust at the images that popped into their minds.
"Ew, ew, stop speaking of it," Dave closed his eyes, trying to blot it all out.
"But do you think Bill…knew…?"
"Ew, ew, what did I just say?"
"Funny you all should mention Bill," Mr. James spoke up, seemingly appearing out of nowhere besides the pair.
"And why is that, sir?" Dave asked, his suspicions arising again.
"Oh, yeah! This is Bill's house."
The entire group – save for a deviously smirking Catherine – fell silent and eyed Mr. James cautiously.
"I-I'm sorry, what?" Lisa chuckled nervously.
"This," Mr. James waved his hands around, "is the house where Bill grew up. McNeal Mansion."
A mixture of emotions could be seen on everyone's faces – confusion, amusement, weariness, a touch of sadness for their long gone friend, but still some horror at the mere memory of many of the late Bill McNeal's zany antics. Dave closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.
"God damn it, Bill."
…
"Cobwebs, cobwebs everywhere," Beth moaned as the group entered the expansive, yet crumbling, library. "Ah! Who's that?!" She screamed, pointing to a large painting that hang on a far, empty wall. It depicted a terrifying personage with a deeply wrinkled face, a mane of shocking white hair and a scowling sneer.
"Huh." Joe peered closely at the painting, munching on a bar of chocolate. "Kinda looks like Bill. Must be his grandfather or someone."
"Actually, it's his grandmother but that's beside the point," Mr. James said as he settled himself into the large, and thankfully steady, armchair that sat nearby. "Now! To tell you why we are all here! Roger!"
"Hi all!"
The gang all jumped in fright as Roger, one of Mr. James's numerous lawyers, appeared behind them from out of nowhere.
"Jesus, Roger!" Dave hissed.
"God, he's even worse than Matthew!" Lisa cried.
"Dude, where's your costume?" Joe frowned.
"Oh, this is my costume," Roger replied, gesturing to himself, dressed in a nice black business suit and blue shirt and tie. He smiled wide, revealing a very fanged grin. "I'm a blood-sucking lawyer."
Everyone openly groaned at the terrible joke, save for Mr. James who chortled happily as Roger walked over to him and they shook hands. "What are you doing here, Roger? I don't recall Mr. James mentioned anything about any recent lawsuits," Dave said, now knowing for a fact that something was up.
"Oh, I'm not here as Mr. James's lawyer," Roger said. "I'm acting under the posthumous orders of one Evelyn William McNeal-"
"It is pronounced 'Evil-lyn'!" Max declared in a dramatic huff.
"…uh, yes, one 'Evil-lyn' William McNeal," Roger continued, ignoring the arrogant stare that Max was giving him. "I shall now read his final-final instructions as written down in this…this…well, huh." Roger had just opened his briefcase to retrieve the package that Bill had left in his possession and had now torn away the cardboard paper to reveal, to his and everyone's surprise, a large clay tablet. "Well, this is new!"
"Yeah, even for Bill, this is really 'out there'," Beth said between chews of bubblegum.
"Thankfully, its in English," Roger said, scanning the contents quickly, then cleared his throat. "'Good evening, everyone! And Matthew. Welcome to Chez McNeal, my ancestral homestead. I have arranged with Roger here and dear Jimmy to have everyone come out here to celebrate my life during the second January after my passing, so that one of you could fulfill the task which in…' Oh, his age is redacted here… 'something years I could not: to find the legendary treasure of my great-great-great-great-great grandfather, Antoinette McNeal."
A stunned silence, then Beth said, a single eyebrow raised, "Who names their son Antoinette?"
"The same kind of person who names their son Evelyn?" Dave quipped.
"Treasure? In a crickety old mansion?" Lisa shook her head in disbelief. "How is it possible for Bill to get even more weird after he dies?"
"May I finish?" Roger eyed the group sternly. "Good. 'The treasure is composed of what would amount to in today's monetary value as 500 hundred million dollars in gold coins. To find it, and I myself found this to be quite tedious, probably why I never found it in the first place, one must first solve this riddle-"
A collective groan went up from the group save for Mr. James, who chuckled gleefully, and Catherine, who just looked bored. "A riddle? Come on, Bill!" She groaned.
"'Do not blame me, Cathy, blame Grandpapa Antoinette, he came up with this sick, twisted charade'," Roger continued in the monotone eerily reminiscent of the late Bill McNeal, as Catherine's eyes widened momentarily.
"Damn. Even dead, he's still one step ahead of us," Joe chuckled heartily. "Way to go, Bill!"
"The riddle!" Roger barked, starting to lose his patience. "'I spout fire, but I am not a volcano, I breathe gray smoke but do not partake in the tobacco, I devour all but do not eat. What am I?'"
A brief silence followed before Dave interrupted with an ironic chuckle. "This is worse than the Halloween when I dressed up as a woman."
Lisa grinned wryly as she nudged his shoulder with her elbow. "At least you're not wearing my dress this time…"
…
"Okay, kids, here's what we're going to do!" Mr. James announced. "We're going to split up into teams of two, so we can, you know, cover more ground. So, let's see here…"
He rubbed his chin, examining the people who had become his family over the years, thinking deeply. "Max and Joe, Catherine and Lisa, Beth and Matthew, and finally, Dave and myself…"
"What about Roger?" Beth asked.
"I'm going to be walking around, making sure no one cheats," Roger said.
"How can anyone cheat at this?" Dave wondered aloud.
"You'd be surprised," Roger replied with a wink.
