Author's notes: New chapter's up. The trio's in this one, after requests fromcertain readers. And because it's needed for the plot ) Hope you like it, and thanks so, so much for the reviews.


Part IV

"Stretch!" Kat called through the empty house. "Fatso! Stinkie!"

Were is everybody? she wondered while she ran down the corridors towards the kitchen. She threw open the door and thought she'd gone blind.

"No, no, no, that was all wrong! Stinkie, turn of the spotlight."

The white light disappeard and the kitchen appeard clearly in front of Kat. Stretch was sitting in a chair wearing sunglasses and a beret. Fatso was standing beside him with a huge camera on his shoulder, and Stinkie was standing on the kitchentable behind a spotlight.

"Hey, you guys, get rid of that stuff and pull yourselfs together!" Kat said.

The movie-equipment disappeared and the trio got pulled together by invisible force.

Kat burst out laughing. "No, guys, I'm serious."

The ghosts separated and sat down on the edge of the table, crosslegged (How? Kat wondered), with too serious looks on their faces.

"Guys, I feel terrible, I need a drink." She shrugged her shoulders. "Feel like joining me for a night out?"


Two hours later, Kat found herself in the most shabby-looking bar she'd ever seen. The trio hadn't needed much persuasion, none at all actually, before they grabbed her, Fatso and Stretch took one arm each and Stinkie took her legs, and brought her to this bar. When they'd arrived, Kat's first thought had been "How can three ghosts drink in the same place as living people?". But then she'd taken a closer look at the rest of the guests, and she'd realized that all of them were too drunk to care.

Now, two hours later, Kat was also too drunk to care. She'd sat in the bar for the major part of the evening, watching the ghosts scare the living out of the bartender and then blend their own drinks that must have been at least 90 alcohol. She'd heared Fatso sing terrible karaoke, seen Stinkie and Stretch perform a pistolduel with real guns, and between that she'd drinken more than she'd ever done before in her life. Her dad had always said that "drinking's not a good way to forget", and Kat was beginning to agree. The more she drank, the more she thought about Casper. Why had he left her? Where had he gone? Was he ever coming back? Did he think of her, wherever he was?

Kat took a gulp of her drink and looked over at Stinkie and Fatso, who were, at the moment, trying to wake one of the living guests by dripping lemon into his ears. Stretch was hoovering behind them, arms folded across his chest, and, as if he felt her looks, he turned around, looked at Kat for a moment, then flew over to her.

"What's up, Katfish?" he asked and sat down on a stool next to her.

"The shy, last time I checked." she answered darkly and took another gulp.

"Hey, why so moody? That's supposed to be my thing."

Kat turned the glass between her fingers. "Why don't you ask that little cute relative of yours?" she said, drank the last of her drink in one gulp and began choking. Stretch punshed her in the back.

"Are we talking about Shortsheet here?"

"Yepp, who else?" Kat poured herself another glass and drank. Then, without warning, she began to cry. "He left me, the damn thing. He just flew away in the middle of the night." She laid her head down on her arms on the bar, sobbed and whispered: "He didn't even say goodbye."

Stretch felt a little awkward. He wasn't used to crying women, didn't know what to do. He hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't you cry over him, Kathy." That only made her sob harder, and Stretch decided to change tactics. He took his hand of her shoulder and poured himself a drink. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't feel very good myself."

Kat lifted her head of her arms and looked at him. "What d'you mean?"

"You see, when Casper's parents died in a car-accident, I promised them I'd look after Casper for them. They must've known they weren't going to linger here. That promise's what's keeping me and the boys here." He pointed at his brothers, who were now putting the other guests in one big pile. "We were going to watch over Shortsheet and make sure he wasn't hurt. It's quite a good job we've done, don't you think?" Stretch took a gulp from his drink and it passed right through him and landed on the floor. "We don't even know where the flying thing is."

Listening to Stretch's confession had made Kat forget her own worries, and she suddenly felt very tired. She was trying to drink, but Stretch lowered her hand that was holding the glass.

"That's enough alcohol for one night." he said and placed her glass behind the bar.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Kat put her arms on the bar again and placed her head on her arms. Ten seconds later she was snoring loudly.

"Hey, guys!" Stretch called to his brother. "Help me carry this bag of bones back to the castle."

Stinkie and Fatso lifted the sleeping Kat between them and Stretch flew before them to open the door. A few seconds later they were flying through the warm night towards Whipstaff.


When they'd put Kat, fully dressed, on top of her bed and closed the door behind them, Stretch turned to his brothers.

"Do we have any idea where Bubblehead is?" he asked.

Both Stinkie and Fatso shoke their heads.

"I haven't seen him for years." Stinkie said. "Not since that party many years ago." he added thoughtfully.

"Exactly!" Stretch said. "Something happened at that party that made him leave." He was silent for a few moments, then he seriously looked at his brothers. "I think it's time we start looking for our nephew, boys. We made a promise to our older brother, may he rest in peace, and it's been too long since we thought about that."

The others nodded.

"Lizzie would never forgive us if anything happened to the little lightning-bug." Fatso said. "But where do we start looking?"

The three ghosts looked dejectedly at each other. None of them had a single idea.