"One…two…three…roast 'im!" Ray Stantz shouts. He and the other Ghostbusters begin to fire their proton streams down from the roof cap of the Shandor Building on Central Park West at the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man below. All the streams manage to do is set him on fire and really piss him off. Mr. Stay Puft comes towards the building and blows hard, sending the flames from his gooey body up at the Ghostbusters. They pull back and find some cover somewhere near the temple of Gozer.

"Funny us going out like this, killed by a 100 foot marshmallow man," Ray states, depressed.

"We're going about this all wrong. This Mr. Stay Puft's okay, he's a sailor, he's in New York…we get this guy laid we won't have any trouble," Peter Venkman says, trying to reassure his comrades.

Meanwhile, Mr. Stay Puft grabs a hold of the side of the building, climbing up towards his goal of destroying the Ghostbusters. The terrified populace in the streets below scream loud enough to wake the dead as they attempt to flee.

"I have a radical idea," Egon Spengler declares. "The door swings both ways, we could reverse the particle flow through the gate."

"How?" Ray asks.

"We'll cross the streams," Egon says hesitantly. Their eyes grow wide.

"'Scuse me Egon, you said crossing the streams was bad!" Peter exclaims.

"Cross the streams…" Ray says, realizing their situation has just gone from bad to worse.

"You're gonna endanger us, you're gonna endanger our client…the nice lady who paid us in advance before she became a dog."

"Not necessarily. There's definitely a very slim chance we'll survive," Egon informs them. Winston Zeddemore rolls his eyes back, questioning their sanity at this point. Peter slaps Egon, putting on a happy face.

"I love this plan! I'm excited to be a part of it! Let's do it!" He gets up and leads the charge as the others follow him. They run up to the stairs of the temple and Ray and Peter fire their proton streams.

"Let's turn 'em on, Spengler!" Ray shouts. Egon and Winston fire their streams. The four of them bring the barrels of their positron rifles together, causing the streams to wrap around each other creating one large stream. They cut their streams and run off to the sides as the temple in front of them explodes, taking out the entire roof and the top three floors of the building, as well as the Marshmallow Man.

Five years later.

New York City's sidewalks have to cope with the rumble of heavy vehicles and foot traffic. As a result, cracks and holes are not an unusual sight to see. What is unusual, however, is a pink substance oozing out of one particular crack. It gathers in a small pool on top of it until two stroller wheels run through it accidentally.

Dana Barrett struggles to hold her very full bag of groceries with one arm as she maneuvers the baby buggy with the other in front of her. Inside the old fashioned buggy lies her 9 month old son, Oscar, peacefully sleeping on the warm New York winter's day. Dana makes her way down 77th street towards her building. She passes by a man yelling at a traffic cop over getting a parking ticket. A few feet away, a man runs into a girl on crutches and keeps on going with her yelling obscenities after him. Dana shakes her head as she pulls up under the awning to her building where her super speaks with his assistant.

"Hello, Frank," Dana says pleasantly as she puts the locks on the buggy's wheels. The super turns to her as his assistant heads off to perform his duties. Frank is a middle-aged portly man with a thick mustache. He smiles at Dana, one of his more favorite tenants.

"Hey there, Ms. Barrett."

"Think you could help me with these?" she asks, handing off her grocery bag to him while she reaches for the other one in the buggy next to Oscar.

"Hey, I ain't the doorman, Ms. Barrett, I'm the building superintendent."

"You're also a human being, Frank," she says with a smirk, handing him a second bag. Frank sighs with reluctance.

"Okay, it ain't my job, but what the hell, I'll do you a favor."

"Thanks. Oh, and listen, when do you think you'll get to check out the radiator in the baby's room? I asked you about it last week," Dana says as she digs through her purse. Neither one of them is aware of the buggy's brakes slowly being lifted up and the buggy beginning to move away from them slightly.

"Didn't I do that?" Frank asks, baffled.

"No, it's getting really cold in there and I…I…" Dana starts, but when she looks up she notices something off and looks at her baby in the buggy. "Well, hey, it's no problem…" Frank starts, staring at her as she stares at the baby. Oscar sits in the buggy awake now, bundled up in a jacket, hood, hat and blanket, blissfully unaware of the world. Dana was starting to think she was imagining things until the buggy began to roll down the street on its own. Within seconds, her coat flaps behind her as she takes off after it at full speed. "Hey, stop that carriage!" she shouts at some movers a few doors down. Two of them look up the street and drop the rug they were carrying in on their shoulders. They make a lunge for the buggy, but it swerves out of the way and into the street. Dana covers her face briefly as she runs, too scared to look but determined to catch up.

It swerves to avoid an oncoming car whose driver slams on the brakes and blares the horn. It moves around a double parked car and swerves out of the way of a taxi. It rolls back towards the curb, causing a fast food delivery boy to fall off his bike as it hops back up onto the sidewalk. Dana makes a dive for the buggy's handle, but misses and falls flat on her face. She pushes herself back up and resumes chase, running past a dog walker and his herd of dogs barking after her and the buggy.

The buggy rolls onto First Avenue, crossing the intersection against the light. Cars begin to swerve as their startled drivers struggle not to hit it. The buggy stops just inches before a passing bus would hit it. Dana runs up to the buggy, terrified, and looks at her baby, gurgling happily having enjoyed the ride. She picks him up and looks him over, and seeing he's alright holds him close to her, scared to let him go again.


GHOSTBUSTERS 2.5

REEEEERRREEEEEERRREEEEEERRR

Ecto-1 is a familiar sight on the streets of New York these days. A beautiful 1959 Cadillac ambulance/hearse combination, she runs like it was her first day off the assembly line. Of course, it took a lot elbow grease and determination to get her there, but the efforts were obviously well worth it.

In the world of science and technology, nothing is static. It constantly evolves as new discoveries are made and things are made simpler focusing in on the dream of a futuristic 21st century. The Ectomobile was a technological marvel unto itself the day she first rolled out of the firehouse to the now famous Sedgewick Hotel bust, and as time has gone on she continues to be.

The roof rack positioned on the center of the roof has been greatly modified. All the various antennae and detection sensors have been condensed into a small radar dish on its left side and a small rotating dome antenna in the center of the rear. The strobe light has been removed to make room for a spinning red light in front of the dish and an A/C unit that keeps a sample refrigerator in the back functional next to that. Running along the right side of the top is a red electrical power tube for quick on-site charging. The empty space behind the A/C unit is an access panel for extra storage within the rack itself.

Wire bundles in tubing run up from the equipment inside the rear to the equipment on the roof from the driver's side. Two yellow tanks of compressed air still adorn the driver's side of the roof rack while on the other side is a longer storage tube. That ladder that ran from the back of the rack down the passenger's side had been removed to make room for an upward extension that now supports a rectangular light bar that flashes white and blue in various programmed patterns.

On the front of the rack is a silver propane tank. Positioned in front of that is the same round rotating red light and strobe. However, over the passenger's side the siren had been removed and relocated behind the grille and replaced with a speaker for a bullhorn or a P/A system. On either end of the roof, the blue light bars' chrome center section had been taken out and replaced with an additional section of rotators, while the flashers still remain intact.

However, more than the roof has changed over her five years of service; the body has undergone some modifications as well. Though still white, accenting the brilliant red fins and trimmed in chrome, Ecto-1's body sports a bit more color. Running down both sides and along the tops of every door are black and yellow reflective caution tape, resembling the design of the ghost trap doors. Above the wheel on the top of the front fender in red cursive are signs that read "Call Us." Along the sides of the rear quarter panels are signs that read "Ghostbusters: 212-NO-GHOST." The grille strobes, no-ghost logos and fender search light still remain, but the mirrors have been replaced with rectangular mirrors like those seen on tractor trailers. The hubcaps have also gone from the classic '59 Cadillac style to baby moons.

Ecto-1 pulls up outside the building on Central Park West and the Ghostbusters emerge. They stand by the car and look up at the building in front of them. Reitman Manor has stood vacant for decades. Once the proud home of New York's oldest, wealthiest family until the early 20th Century, it now is a shambles. Almost every window in the place is broken; some frames are knocked out entirely. The roof caps of the mansions' towers are stripped; all that remains are their beams. The decorative arches around the base are covered in dirt and grime from exposure to the elements and pollution of the city.

"Nice place," Peter comments, "very homey."

"Well, better get to work. Have to clear the place out so the city can sell it at auction," Ray says as he heads to the back of Ecto-1. He opens the door and reaches in, sliding out the proton pack rack. They each grab a pack and help each other slip them on. Ray reaches back into the car and pulls out two ghost traps and his ecto-goggles. He slides the rack back in and shuts the door. "Shall we?" They start up the path towards the entrance of the mansion.

The inside has fared no better than the outside. Ravaged by exposure to the elements and various insects, the wooden floors have rotted and are falling apart, the master staircase looks about ready to crumble, and whatever furniture was left inside has collapsed into almost nothing. Cobwebs run all along the walls and ceilings, and layers of dust cover everything.

"Well, if there's a ghost here, they certainly picked a good place to haunt," Winston says, looking around as he draws his positron rifle off his pack. Egon holds up his PKE meter and the wings extend outward fully, the lights on them blinking rapidly.

"There's definitely something here," he tells them.

"Alright, boys, let's clean house," Ray says, pulling down his goggles and grabbing his positron rifle. They split up; Winston and Peter head upstairs while Egon and Ray head off in opposite directions to adjacent rooms. Winston and Peter make it up to the landing and look around the floor. Winston steps down and a floorboard loudly squeaks under him, cutting through the silence in the house. Both men jump.

"Geeze, Winston!" Peter exclaims.

"Sorry," he says. "So, which room do you wanna take?" he asks, looking at the doorways to various rooms.

"Howabout whichever magically transports me to the Miami Beach?" Peter quips. Neither man notices two translucent hands reaching down and tightly clutching the tattered hall rug below them. With a hard yank, the carpet comes up, sending Winston and Peter flipping onto the floor.

"What the hell!" Peter asks. They look back to see a headless ghost wearing a Civil War uniform by the stairs. The ghost waves, then leaps down through the floor. "A ghost with a sense of humor…fantastic!" Peter gripes as he and Winston scramble to their feet and run back to the stairs to pursue it.

Egon moves around in what was once a music room. A fireplace stands off against one wall while the remains of a grand piano across the way. The tattered drapes cover the windows, preventing most of the light outside from coming in. He follows his PKE meter, watching its screen intently. He stops when he notices the ghost coming through the ceiling and "landing" on the piano.

Egon quickly reaches back and grabs his positron rifle. He takes aim and fires a proton stream. The ghost leaps off, allowing the stream to hit the piano and causing it to explode into a pile of wood and dust. Egon spins as the ghost lands on the floor behind him. He fires, and the ghost dives through the wall, causing the beam to hit the floor and blowing a hole through it. However, due to the age and deterioration of the floor, it causes a chain reaction that makes the floor under Egon collapse with it.

"WOAH!" he shouts as he catches the edges of the hole he created with his hands. He looks down to the dark basement below, not sure of how far a drop he would have. Winston and Peter run into the room and see Egon's fingers sticking up out of the hole.

"Egon!" Peter exclaims. They run over to the hole and reach down; grabbing Egon's arms and hoisting him back up.

"Thanks," he says, adjusting his glasses. "This building is highly unstable. I'm afraid our random proton discharges may have an adverse effect on it."

"You ain't kidding," Peter says, whistling at the hole.

"I suggest making sure every shot counts. I don't think we can afford any strays." Suddenly, the wall behind them explodes as Ray's proton stream flies through it. They duck as pieces of plaster and dust land on them. The ghost flies through the chaos as Ray enters the room from the other doorway. He stops short just before he falls into the hole. He looks up and sees the others giving him a dirty look.

"Oh…sorry. Slippery thing, ain't he?" Winston's eyes grow wide.

"Ray! Duck!" Ray drops to the floor just as the ghost flies by overhead, almost hitting him with a large, dusty urn. Ray looks up and fires; blasting more of the wall away as the ghost avoids his stream. Peter stands up and spins, opening fire and catching the ghost as it flies past them. The stream wraps around the ghost as it struggles to break free.

"HA! Got you, you son of a bitch!" Peter laughs, shortening his stream to reel the ghost in close.

"Z!" Ray shouts, tossing Winston one of the traps. Winston catches it sends it out under where Peter holds the headless ghost.

"Hold him steady, Peter!" Winston says as he drops the trap's pedal by his foot.

"Comin' at yaaaaaaaaaaaaaow!" Peter screams. They all look at him strangely until they see the ghost's head chomping away at his ankle. Peter looks down and yelps out in pain again. "OW! Get it off! Get it off!"

"Egon, comin' at ya!" Ray says, running around the hole over to Peter. He holds down his rifle and swings it like a golf club, knocking the head off Peter's leg. The head flies up through the air, and Egon fires, catching it in midair. He turns and joins his stream with Peter's. Winston slams the pedal with his foot, causing the black and yellow striped doors to open and a column of light to come out. The Ghostbusters all turn away, shielding their eyes from the intense light as both parts of the ghost are sucked down and into the trap. The doors shut, and the indicators light up showing that the trap is full.

"Got 'em!" Winston states.

"Haha! Guess he shoulda quit while he was… a head! Huh?" Ray asks, laughing. The others all roll their eyes at him.

"Ray, leave the comedy to the professionals," Peter says, placing a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, they hear a large groan throughout the building.

"Oh, come on! It wasn't THAT bad!" Ray exclaims.

"Wasn't us, man," Winston informs him. They look up as dust falls out of the ceiling. The section of wall Ray decimated crumbles to the ground as the house begins to shake violently.

"Uh oh!" Egon exclaims.

"Move it!" Peter shouts. The Ghostbusters scramble back towards the front door as a support beam crashes through the ceiling and the floor. One by one they run out the front door as the mansion crumbles around them. They dive down on the grass as the house collapses, sending up a cloud of dust as it disappears into a pile of rubble.

As the dust begins to settle, a crowd has gathered on the street looking at the mess. The Ghostbusters cough as they raise their heads, looking back towards the massive pile of wood, plaster and stone. Egon, Peter and Winston all turn to look at Ray who smiles sheepishly.

"Ooops," he says with a shrug. Egon shakes his head as Peter looks at him.

"Maybe we should give the city a discount," he suggests.


The Manhattan Museum of Art sits on the southern tip of Manhattan Island. It in itself is a work of art with decorative columns and statues adorning the façade all around. One either side of the massive staircase leading up to the front door are four statues representing different peoples of the world.

The Restoration Room inside the museum is large and equally as beautiful as the outside. Ornamental support columns are positioned throughout the room, and a grand marble archway marks the entrance into the room. Ornamental brass gates hang open inside the arches allowing people to move in and out of the room. Artists sit at various work stations all around working on different projects. Two men enter the room, wheeling in a very large painting. On the canvas stands a man with a fierce scowl on his face in strong armor with protruding shoulder pads and silver skull decorations on various parts. He keeps one hand on his hip while the other rests on a stone pedestal of some sort. A sinister looking castle is off in the background amongst a barren wasteland, and the yellow tone of the paints gives it an extra feeling of foreboding.

Dr. Janosz Poha is a fairly young man, but his age doesn't hinder his brilliance. A prominent art historian and painter, he was made head of the Restoration Department at the museum. He has a passion for the art rivaled by no other alive today, but his co-workers find him a little quirky and intense. Some would go as far as to say creepy.

"Now, put Prince Vigo over there in the arches," Janosz directs the men moving the painting in his Eastern European accent. Satisfied that Vigo is safely being placed under the ornamental archway, he turns towards his employees and begins to walk past them, looking over their work.

"Everything you are doing is bad, I vant you to know this," he tells one woman working on a painting. He looks over at an older man working with an old frame. "You be careful there!" he says. The older man shoots him the dirtiest look, basically questioning how a jackass like him got to become head of his own department. He shakes it off and goes back to his work as Janosz approaches Dana's station. "And how are you doing?"

"Oh, just fine; this mixture you gave me is working great," Dana says as she dabs at the old masterpiece on her easel, bringing its color back to its former glory.

"Vell, I do mix a great cocktail," Janosz says, jokingly. He moves behind Dana to get a better look at her work…and her. Ever since she began working at the museum and in his department, Janosz had felt an instant attraction. So far, she has resisted all his attempts, but he was determined to succeed. She, on the other hand, was determined to try and not run away from him screaming every time she saw him. "Yes, you are doing really quite good work there."

"Thank you," Dana says, wishing he'd leave. Janosz, while checking Dana out, notices a piece of cotton caught in her curly hair.

"Maybe it won't be long before you can…assist me on larger projects," he says, reaching out and removing the cotton. As Dana feels his fingers in her hair, she begins to panic, not knowing what to do. She turns around, ready to slug him if need be, but he holds up the cotton and sends relief through her body.

"Well, thank you, Dr. Poha…"

"Janosz," he corrects her.

"…Janosz. I've enjoyed working here, but now that my baby's a little older I was going to try and go back to the orchestra," she says, cleaning off her brush with some water and cotton set up on the table next to her.

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that…that you vill not…not be not here. Vell, how to say goodbye? Maybe I could, uh, I could bring you to a brunch today or…" Dana smiles politely, wondering when he will leave.

"Well, I can't today, I have an appointment…" As she cleans off her brush, she angles her wrist to look at her watch. "…in fact, I better go!" She puts her brush down and stands up, reaching over for her coat and scarf.

"I don't understand it, every day I say vell Dana can you do something and every day you say no I can't…vhat, do I have bad breath or something?"

"No, of course not," she says, her smile fading as she turns for the door and starts off quickly.

"Vell, I'll give you a rain check!" he calls after her. He walks over to his work area with a big smile on his face. He stops next to the painting of Vigo and stares at the doorway for a few moments. "I think that she likes me, I do I truly do." He steps away and goes around his desk to his chair, blissfully unaware that Vigo's face has suddenly become three-dimensional and was following his every move.