Hi ho, tinfoil! Away!

Sorry. I'm in a really peppy mood today.

I see I made you happy with my new and improved longer chapters. With this, I've only got a couple of more to go, thanks to Ultimate TH's suggestion.

And now, a reply to all the reviewers of my latest chapter:

Ultimate TH: Thanks for the idea! I made the chappie longer just for you!

Mina-chan AMD: I'm glad you understood about the length between chapters. You were there at the beginning, and I hope you'll stick with me till the end!

xheatrkreuzx: I see we have a new reader! Welcome to the inner sanctum! I hope you'll be satisfied!

Faith's melody: My old friend! Thanks for your commentary. And about your theory on Erik: not everything's that cut-and-dry...

As for my other readers, don't worry! I haven't forgotten you!

Now, commence au festival!

Chapter Nine: The Ghost and the Scorpion

Erik grinned triumphantly thinking of his plan. He had gone through all the trouble of pushing the PTA meeting to tonight and convincing Principal Ishyama to host it in the school auditorium, where he and Bertrand could move about freely.

The plan had been gone through a hundred times in his mind; so much, in fact, that he could compose a piece of music based on it on the spot. The only thing that could stop him was the ghost boy, and even that was unlikely. In order to be safe, however, it had to be done tonight.

The door behind the Opera Ghost opened; startling him to transform back into Mr. Claudine. He turned around to find Penelope Spectra, a clipboard in hand, standing in his doorway wearing her standard, eager expression.

"Oh, thank heaven..." Erik sighed as his suit jacket and fedora transformed back into his standard tuxedo, cloak, and slouch hat.

"How's everything going along?" Spectra asked, looking at her clipboard.

"Smooth as silk. Jeremy Manson will be there, the ghost boy won't, and I'll tie off the last loose end in this plan."

"Great."

Erik looked into the mirror on his wall. In it, he saw Danny Fenton's boyish reflection, with Danny Phantom's green eyes. It was amazing what the ecto-transfusion had done for his looks, as well as his powers. Soon, the quarry that had avoided him about a week ago would get his eternal reward...

"I still don't see why we didn't get an invite." complained Jack.

"It was probably a fluke, Dad. Things like that go wrong sometimes."

Jazz liked to play a part in the PTA meetings at Casper High. It made her feel as though she were steering the destiny of hundreds of young souls towards happy and prosperous futures. After all, she was an adult; psychologically, that is.

After the ghost invasion by Danny Phantom, which was later proved to be planned by another ghost, Jack and Maddie were often called upon by the school for their services. They installed ghost detection equipment, lectured the staff, and were currently working on an ecto-resin to put on all the lockers.

Today's meeting, however, was hosted by Mr. Claudine, and centered around his suggestion to include string instruments in the symphonic band. Claudine, in his gray suit jacket and fedora, stood at the auditorium podium, orating endlessly about his experience in the Seattle Philharmonic Orchestra. Dr. Spectra and Lancer sat behind him, the former with an expression of utter smugness.

Jazz had suspected Claudine of something ever since she first met him. Under a microscope, the green powder on her hand that the music teacher shook was revealed to have a pseudo-cell structure, much like that of viruses.

The substance was ectoplasm.

Erik Claudine had been in contact with ghosts.

Ghosts that were preying upon the student body like hungry vultures.

"...and I fondly believe," continued the music teacher, "that if we are to realize the full musical potential of our students, we should introduce the fourth and final branch of the musical family into our band." There was light applause as he stepped off the podium.

"Thank you, Erik, for that...inspiring speech," said Lancer as he got up. "Now, for the financial side of this suggestion–"

A low rumbling cut the vice principal off in the middle of his sentence. The room fell eerily silent. Everyone except Spectra and Claudine had looks of horror and worry on their faces.

Maddie took a small, boxy device from out of a holster on her belt. The Fenton Finder was beeping like crazy.

Before anyone could react, a giant green tail, complete with stinger on its tip, shot out of the floor like a sapling. With a large amount of splintered wood, it was followed by a glowing green scorpion roughly the size of a minivan. People started to scream and run as chaos overtook the room.

Over the cacophony, Jack's bellow could be heard: "Ghost! Ghost! GHOST!"

"Jazz, get to safety!" her mother yelled. Jazz followed suit, hiding behind a door, where she could get a good view of the fight.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Jack and Maddie unsheathed their ghost-hunting weapons; Maddie a glowing green staff, Jack his favorite: the Jack-o-nine-tails.

While the battle ensued, Jazz noticed that someone was standing next to her: Mr. and Mrs. Manson. The former was cowering behind the door, covering his eyes; the latter writing something down on a clipboard.

"That is objectionable," stated Mrs. Manson simply.

Jazz noticed something else too: Claudine was perched on a rafter above her parents, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a gargoyle in his gray-shaded uniform. Out of nowhere, he conjured a long section of glowing green rope, which twisted into a slipknot and hovered next to the teacher.

It was worse than Jazz thought: Claudine wasn't in contact with ghosts, he was a ghost!

The lasso twirled downwards like a whip, in Mr. Manson's general direction.

"Look out!" Jazz tackled the fair-haired man out of the way as the rope phased through the wall and whipped through empty air. In the auditorium, the scorpion knocked Maddie back with one of its pincers, knocking her Fenton Utility Weapon, a piece of green lipstick, out the door and to Jazz's feet.

Claudine leaped down from the rafters, unnoticed by the screaming people in the room, phased through the wall, and landed in proximity to the three people. In a flash of green smoke, his suit jacket transformed into a fine tuxedo and cloak, his fedora into a floppy black slouch hat. His mismatched green eyes now glowed with an intensity comparable to molten steel.

"Stand aside, bratling!" he commanded with a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Jazz didn't reply; instead, she made a dive for the lipstick as Claudine's lasso once again whipped through the air. She fired off a shot, which her opponent blocked with a shimmering green energy wall.

"Hiding in the school as a teacher?" There was a mocking defiance in Jazz's voice that signified she wasn't afraid. "That's a pretty cheap parlor trick for you, Phantom."

The Opera Ghost's eyes burned with hatred. "Really? Let's see how smart you are once I snap your head off your spine!" His lasso once again lashed at Jazz, who simply shot it out of the air.

Hmm, she thought, I must have inherited my shot from Mom. Cool!

As the ghost prepared an energy blast to answer his humiliation, the scorpion came crashing through the auditorium, plowing the Phantom into the floor. The giant insect started to churn and boil, transforming into a glowing green blob of ectoplasm.

"Bertrand, you idiot!" snapped the Opera Ghost. "I specifically said not to invite the Fentons!"

"I didn't!" snipped the blob with a know-it-all tone.

"Well, the plan's botched now..." the Phantom turned his attention back to Jazz. "Just one more head on my list!" And with a whirl of his cloak, he vanished in a puff of green mist.

Jazz collapsed to her knees, exhausted from the ordeal she had been forced to go through. Mr. Manson, trembling with fear, helped her to her feet.

Maddie and Jack, still brandishing their weaponry, numerous tears in their jumpsuits, burst through the door.

"Jazz, are you alright? Where'd they go?" her mother managed between heavy breathing.

"They vanished!" Mrs. Manson exclaimed in an astonished voice.

"We got a runner!" Jack yelled as he and Maddie dashed outside.

A wry grin crept across Jazz's lips; she had uncovered Claudine and held her own against him. As much as she hated to admit it, she sorta liked ghost hunting.

Still, now both her and her brother were in mortal danger now...

Ta-da!

Sorry for taking so long to update, but I haven't gotten much computer time thanks to my annoying little cyst of a brother.

R and R, please! Your opinions are my lifeblood!

Your sincerest regards,

Monsieur Caracal.