The sun soon rose over Gracey Manor, making the dewdrops on the gravestones glisten. The ancient Dutch-Gothic mansion looked breath-takingly beautiful in the morning. Somewhere, a rooster crowed. It was promptly shot at.

"Sewell, put the gun away!" yelled Master Gracey.

"Yes sir."

If the gunshot didn't rouse the ghosts from their slumbers, the bugle wake-up call did. Poor Dustin, who had spent most of the night reassembling his buggy and searching for Rolly, had fallen asleep around four-thirty in the morning. He had curled up in the back of the hearse and was snoozing quite peacefully until Phineas, Gus, and Ezra had made themselves "The Honorary Wakers of the Dead".

Phineas gently tapped on the glass windows of the coffin compartment. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" Dustin just turned over and ignored him.

Next it was Gus's turn. The short spook looked over the carriage, inspecting every inch of it. Then he carefully lifted up the chain attached to his ankle, swung it like a lasso, and then slammed the metal ball against the glass. Amazingly, the glass didn't shatter, and Gus's attempt wasn't completely in vain.

Dustin bolted up. Upon realizing that the hearse wasn't further damaged, he glared at Gus and yelled, "Bugger off!" He pulled the velvet curtains in the glass compartment closed and flopped back down.

"You've got to be more creative than that, Gussie," said Ezra. "Just stand back and watch a pro, little man." He sauntered over to where Rolly was standing. The horse was back in his harnesses and had calmed down quite a bit after last night's fiasco. Ezra was going to see to it that the animal wasn't going to be very calm for much longer. He raised his right arm high in the air, and then smacked the horse's rump.

Rolly whinnied, reared up, and then took off as fast as he could through the cemetery, dragging the hearse and Dustin, who was screaming at the top of his lungs, behind him. Ezra inhaled deeply and sighed. "God, I love it here." He looked around. "I wonder what the newbies are up to."

"All right, every…body," George began his usual morning speech in the ballroom. Many, but not all, of the ghosts were present. Those who were there included Myrriah and Courtney. Surprisingly, it was Courtney who seemed to be nervous and apprehensive, rather than Myrriah who looked as if she had completely gotten over the events of last night.

"There's no telling when a guest might materialize," continued George, his strong voice echoing throughout the grand room. "So I want all of you to look…alive." He chuckled softly at his own joke. "And remember, there will be a swinging wake taking place this evening…"

"Where does he come up with that stuff?" Myrriah hissed into Courtney's ear.

Courtney just shrugged. She had spent most of the night thinking about Madam Leota's offer. Could she really bring them back to life? No one had that kind of power, right? And how exactly would she set Madam Leota free? And why was she locked up in the first place?

Her thoughts, as well as George's speech, were interrupted as the front door creaked open. "It seems our first visitor has arrived," said George. "Places, people. Emu girls," he said, pointing to Courtney and Myrriah, "I trust you can take care of the guest."

"Yes, sir," they said in unison.

"Wonderful. Now I want to see some real haunting from you two. Run along, don't dawdle now," he said as he shooed them away.

Myrriah and Courtney watched the boy in the foyer. He couldn't have been much older than twelve. He had thick, messy black hair, and large, dark eyes, which were darting about nervously. He was wearing a grubby pair of red Converse shoes, dark blue jeans, and a Rocky and Bullwinkle shirt. His glasses had very thick lenses and black frames and kept sliding down the bridge of his nose. In one pocket of his jeans he had a beautiful red rose.

He was still glancing fearfully about the room when he called out, "Hello? Anyone here?"

"Too easy," said Courtney. "Watch this." She silently glided up behind him, licked one of her fingers, and stuck it in his ear. "Wet willy!"

"Gah!" the boy yelled. He jumped behind a small couch. "Who's there?"

"Courtney, you are a class act," Myrriah said sarcastically.

"Well it scared him, didn't it? Come on, it's a classic!"

The boy peeked out from his hiding place and watched the two young ghosts. His fear was soon replaced by curiosity and amusement.

"What are you going to do next, shove him head first into a toilet and give him a swirly?"

"Y…no," said Courtney slowly. "I was going to, you know, jump and yell 'Boo', or something."

"Excuse me," the boy interjected.

"Do you even know the first thing about properly haunting?" Myrriah demanded. "Honestly, how many people have you intentionally scared?"

"Well, there was that time at Stonehenge…"

"Excuse me," the boy said again.

"Accidentally knocking over a historical monument with a bowling ball doesn't count!" Myrriah argued. "And I think people were more P. O.ed than frightened."

"Oh, and I suppose painting that mustache on the Mona Lisa does count?" snapped Courtney.

"Hey, that curator was so scared that he nearly peed his pants."

"EXCUSE ME!"

The girls stopped arguing and turned to look at the boy, who was now sitting on the couch. For a moment he looked as if he didn't know what to do next. He cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, thank you. I just came here to get my camera back. I thought I left it outside, but I couldn't find it."

"Oh, that's your camera?" asked Courtney.

"What camera?" asked Myrriah.

"The one I found out in the woods," Courtney explained. Myrriah still looked confused. "I found a camera in the woods after the hearse accident."

"Oh."

"Can I have it back?" the boy asked. "I had some really neat photos on there that I need to develop for a school assignment."

"Sure," said Courtney. "I'll just go ask George where-"

"Wait a minute," interrupted Myrriah. "People were looking all over for you and the person who was with you last night. How did you get out without anyone knowing?"

The boy blinked a few times. "That was easy. There's a broken window in the attic. Dad and I just climbed out of it, onto a balcony, and down some steps. There was a path that leads right past the graveyard and into the woods. Dad knew about it."

"How would your father know about that?" asked Myrriah.

"He was here before, about thirty years ago. He wanted to see if the house was still the same after all those years, and I tagged along to get some ghost pics. Now, can I please get my camera back?"

"Okee-dokey," said Courtney. "I'll just-"

"Hold it," said Myrriah, grabbing her friend's shoulder before she could walk away. "You said your dad was with you right? Did he take something?"

The boy shook his head. "My dad wouldn't steal anything! What gave you that idea?"

"The ghost in the attic said that she saw him grab something."

"I didn't see him take anything," the boy answered truthfully. "I would have told him to put it back if he did."

"I think he's telling the truth," Courtney said. "Let's just go get his camera from George."

"All right," Myrriah sighed. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Paul. Paul Burton." He smiled and held out his hand for them to shake it.

"He's kind of sweet," Courtney whispered into Myrriah's ear. To Paul she said, "I'm Courtney Carlson, and this is my best bud Myrriah Harolds."

"Nice to meet you," said Paul. He and Courtney were still shaking hands long after Myrriah had let go.

Courtney, Myrriah, and Paul approached the door to George's office. They couldn't knock, however, because a ghostly knight and a burly executioner were standing guard just outside. The skinny knight was holding his decapitated head in one hand and a sword in the other. His partner was wearing the standard executioner's mask and gripped a large axe, the end of which was resting on his shoulder.

Paul gulped nervously. "Uh, h-hi."

"We're here to see Master Gracey," said Courtney, as if she was speaking to a receptionist at a dentist's office.

The knight and the executioner looked at each other for a moment and then turned back to the kids. In a snooty, high-pitched voice, the knight said, "Ain't nobody gonna see the master, not no way, not no how."

"Oh, good Lord," groaned Myrriah.

It was at that moment that George poked his head, literally, through the door. "What are you two doing here?" he demanded, glaring at the knight and the executioner.

"Keeping watch over your door, good sir," said the knight.

George sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't need any body guards? I don't have a body to guard! Go… somewhere else."

"And do what?" asked the executioner.

"Um… Go make sure Ezra isn't chucking rotten eggs down the organ pipes again. And if he's not doing that, make sure he's not making any crank calls to that video store." After he watched them walk away, he turned to Courtney, Myrriah, and Paul. "What can I do for you?"

"I don't mean to bother you, sir," said Paul, "I just came back to get my camera."

"Oh, it's yours, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

George disappeared into his office for a moment and walked back with the camera. "Before I give this back, I want to know, how did you manage to sneak out of the house?"

"Attic window."

George's face went blank for a moment as it dawned on him. "D'oh!" he muttered. "Should have thought of that." He reluctantly handed the camera to Paul. "That is a wonderful little gizmo you got there. Take good care of it."

"Thank you, sir." Paul inspected the camera. He furrowed his brow and exclaimed, "Hey, I had eighteen pictures left on this; now there's only four!"

George's eyes darted about as if he was trying very hard not to look suspicious. "What do you know? Stranger things have happened. Heh. Run along now." He was about to walk back into his office, but suddenly stopped and stared at Paul. "You look familiar. Not you specifically, but some of your features." He thought this over for a few seconds and then snapped his fingers. "Mike! Mike and Karen! That's who you look like!"

"You know my parents?" asked Paul in bewilderment.

"Yes, I gave them the grand tour of the house years ago. They were only teenagers then." He smiled wistfully. "They were out on a date, it started to storm, and they ran in here for shelter. I scared the bejeezus out of them." He sighed. "Good times." He cleared his throat. "Well, I'm expected at a party in just a few minutes, so I really have to get going. Tell your folks I said 'hello'." With that he vanished.

"I guess I should be leaving too," said Paul. "Thanks for getting my camera back."

"No prob," said Courtney. "By the way, what was the rose for?"

Paul's ears turned red. "Well, I felt bad about taking the picture of the ghost in the attic because it made her so upset. I was going to give her this rose, but she probably wouldn't even let me talk to her. Plus, I don't thinka diva like her would really appreciate a gift like this." He took the rose out of his pocket. "Uh, you can have it, Courtney, if you want it." He held the flower out to her. "I mean, I understand if you don't. Why would a ghost want a dumb rose, anyway? But I don't want it to just die, so…"

Courtney snatched it from his hand. "Thank you, Paul!" She gave him a quick hug. "That's so sweet of you! I'll find a vase to put this in as soon as I can."

"You people are giving me diabetes," Myrriah groaned.

They acted as if they had not heard her. They stared at each other a moment longer before Paul finally said, "Good bye. I'll try to come back later."

"Buh-bye," murmured Courtney as she watched him walk out of the mansion. She sighed.

"Twitterpated," Myrriah muttered. "Absolutely Twitterpated."

Hello! Before I get to the author's notes, I wanted to answer a question that was in one of my reviews.

Azure Autumn writes: Have you actually looked up stuff on the ghost gallery website? is that how you found out about Emily? After I get one of my other stories finished up, I'm gonna start doing my HM fanfics again. This is so accurate! I love it!

Thank you for the compliments, Azure! And yes, that's how I found out about that particular Emily story. There's another one where her groom (usually Gracey) finds her talking to another man in the attic. Not knowing the man is from the bridal shop, he cuts off his head, and then tosses Emily out the window, which is why the window is now broken. This particular story goes along with a character called the Hatbox Ghost. The special effects for this poor ghoul never quite worked, so Imagineers had to remove him from the ride shortly after it opened. (In some stories, the Hatbox Ghost is her groom.)

Let me know when you start writing your HM stories, I can't wait to read them!

A/N: Sewell is the name on one of the tombstones in front of the mansion. He will also be a character that pops up later on who is based on one of the dueling men in the ballroom portraits. Paul Burton is a name created from Paul Frees and Corey Burton, two of my favorite voice actors. Paul provided the original voice for the Ghost Host as well as the voice for Boris Badenov on The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. (Hence, the shirt) Corey Burton was the voice for the Ghost Host in the Haunted Mansion Holiday overlay (and he did a spectacular job, too!).

The Mike and Karen mentioning is a direct reference to the record "The Story and Song From the Haunted Mansion."

And the term "Twitterpated" is from Bambi. :p