Looking up, he gasped

Looking up, he gasped. The old lamp was shaking. It trembled with such force that Morton feared it might fall, but it didn't. It just kept shaking.

"Well," he stated. "That's odd."

Stranger still was the noise it was making. A sort of swishing sound emerged from the antique lamp; quite aside from the sort of clattering you might expect to hear.

The room exploded with sound as everything that could even possibly make a noise erupted in a series of loud clattering. Dishes flew, chairs moved and even the pictures on the wall rumbled. Anything that wasn't attached to the floor, or too heavy, took to the air and floated about in a crazy manner. A scraping sound caused Morton to whip around, only to discover that the couch was sliding in his direction. He dodged it, and it stopped as it collided with the wall.

"Hey, it's working!" exclaimed Iggy, though Morton couldn't quite say he shared his enthusiasm. He screamed as he ducked to avoid a flying dish. The camera grew unsteady as Breeze and Larry struggled not to get hit themselves.

Morton collapsed on the floor, hoping that the flying objects wouldn't hit him. Just as it seemed that the next oversized chair was about to steamroll over him, everything stopped and was calm once again. He hesitantly stood up again. Everything now looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. Chairs were scattered all over, dishes were lying broken on the floor and silverware was spread about in every conceivable place. One particularly large chair had lodged itself into the wall.

"A-a-are you guys all right?" he asked shakily.

"I'm okay," whimpered Larry. "But where's…" he fell silent as a look of horror registered on his face. Morton's own face took on a similar expression as he followed his younger brother's gaze. The mangled body of a Lakitu hung suspended from the ceiling. Both found themselves unable to speak for a moment as the camera focused on the gruesome image.

"Guys!" Wendy's impatient voice snapped them out of their trance. "You're still on the air, and the ratings are raising by the minute! Do something!"

"If that's Breeze…" realized Morton slowly. "Then who's… holding… the other… camera?"

He screamed again as he looked in the direction of Breeze's camera. Behind it stood a large, greyish Goomba. It had huge bags under its eyes, a large gash on its lower body, and very bad breath. Its eyes were glazed over, yet seemed focused as the same time. They focused on Morton, and it began to advance on him somewhat slowly.

"Grrrroaaaaa!" it declared threateningly.

The Goomba marched up to Morton and growled defiantly. Noting that it's victim seemed as yet unaffected, it mustered all of its strength and began to stomp on his toes.

"Uhh…" said Morton, slightly flabbergasted by the pitiful attempt. "You know, we're trying to film a TV show here. And it's live, by the way. Now, you've managed to get yourself on TV, so shoo. Shoo!"

Untouched by Morton's dialogue, the Goomba growled again and bared its teeth. It chomped down on his foot, causing him to howl in pain.

"Oww!" he cried, smacking it away.

The Goomba seemed to rather dislike being swatted away. It growled again.

"That's nice," said Morton, annoyed. First the room explodes, and now this? "Why don't you just go and… Uh oh."

From behind one of the fallen chairs emerged several small figures. Stepping out into the full light they could be seen. Six grisly Goombas emerged, each with a nearly identical gouge on their chests and glazed over eyes that seemed as if they hadn't slept in days. They growled warningly. Morton panicked, suddenly realizing what should have been so obvious before.

"Ahhh!" he screamed. "Zombies!"

He backed up. The Goomba zombies came closer. They ignored Larry completely, and he continued to film as they cornered him between a large chair and the wall.

"Eh, nice zombies…" he said quietly. They were not at all calmed.

Noticing a door to his right, Morton made a dash and was inside the next room before the slow Goombas had a chance to turn around. He slammed the door behind him. This new room was fairly empty, save for a large couch with frilly pillows.

BRACKACKACKAKCAKCK! His sigh of relief was quickly replaced by a scream as he turned towards the sound. An old-looking Goomba/zombie was limping towards him. It's slower than slow gait could almost have been funny… if it hadn't been holding a chainsaw.

"Eeeek!" shrieked Morton, backing up. He tried to hide behind the sofa, which was speedily sawed in half.

Larry kept filming. Though he could only now focus on the door that Morton had entered, his screaming was making the whole "door scene" very dramatic. The zombies continued to stare at the door, as if they thought maybe something was going to happen. Larry heard Iggy's voice in his ear as another panicked yelp came from behind the door.

"Larry, tell Morton to keep doing whatever he's doing!" said Iggy. "The ratings are going through the roof!"

"I dunno, he might really need some help," said Larry uncertainly. He made sure to keep his voice at a whisper. Anyone watching his or her TV would only hear screaming as the camera continued to focus on the door and the confused zombies.

"Ahh! Help me, someone!" came Morton's terrified cry from behind the door. "Oh DAD, please get me outta here!"

Back outside, Wendy and Iggy stared each other worriedly.

"Should we get him out of there?" asked Iggy anxiously. "What if he's really in trouble?"

Wendy stared at the monitor uncertainly. "…We can't," she said. "The ratings are too high."

"What?" asked Iggy. "You heard Larry, he could really need help! We could get him out of there now if we hurry." 

"If we stopped now, we'd be in some serious trouble," said Wendy firmly. "Morton's probably just putting on a show for the audience."

But he wasn't acting. Even as Wendy spoke, he was still running around the room, desperate to stay away from the crazed deceased. Grabbing a pillow from the couch, he flung it at the Goomba. It grunted, but seemed otherwise unfazed and continued its slow amble towards him.

Dashing for the door, he opened it only to find the other zombies waiting for him. He hastily slammed it shut again and dodged the chainsaw as it screamed towards him. It missed, but in doing so broke through the door. The other Goomba zombies began to jump through the opening. Panting, he made for the window and began pulling on the handle, but it seemed to be stuck.

The chainsaw grew louder as he began to slam himself up against the window desperately. It didn't so much as crack, and he had to literally fall over to avoid the next swipe. The chainsaw missed again, this time hitting the window. It began to rain glass as the window shattered on impact. The annoyed little Goomba regained it composure and grunted in threat. It spotted Morton, who still hadn't gotten up and was shaking on the ground wishing it were all a bad dream.

The Goomba smirked and tried again, but unfortunately seemed to have very bad aim. The chainsaw hit the ground to the left of Morton, who screamed and tried to get up. As the zombie Goomba struggled to pull the chainsaw out of the floor, Morton looked around and tried not to panic any more than he already was. All of his exits were gone… but where…?

But he was running out of time. The Goomba was getting tired of the whole mess and decided it had had enough. With stronger determination and decidedly better aim, it managed to retrieve the chainsaw and charged at him. There was no time to think. Morton hurled himself out of the shattered window and only hoped that the ground wasn't too hard as he fell three stories down.

Gasping, Iggy and Wendy rushed over to help. They stared in horror at Morton, who lay unmoving on the grass.

"Is he…?" squeaked Iggy, his eyes wide. Larry hurried outside and was soon by their side. He stared in disbelief as Wendy took Morton's pulse.

"No, he's all right," said Wendy. The group breathed a sigh of relief as they struggled to haul him a fair distance away from the mansion. None of them doubted it to be haunted any more.

***

It was late the next day when Morton finally woke up. Strangely, he didn't remember a thing. He scoffed when they told him what he'd seen. He didn't even believe them when Larry showed him the tape from his camera.

"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "Those are just Gloombas with fake blood painted on their chests. It looks very fake, unreal, bogus, phoney -"

"Then how do you explain that bump on your head?" interjected Wendy.

"Well, I fell out of a window, that much I know,"

"Then what about Breeze?"

"Who's Breeze?" asked Morton, puzzled.

Wendy and Larry stared at him in disbelief.

The End