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