"So, Mr. Fenton, before I call your parents and inform them that you have been involved in injuring half the football team and caused quite a scene in the halls, would you like to say something?" Mr. Lancer asked blandly, already reaching for the phone.

"Mr. Lancer," Danny said with relish and took out a small sheaf of papers. "In my hands I hold eye-witness accounts of no less than half the student body testifying to the overall cruelty and bullying attitude of the football team." Danny took out another sheaf of papers. "In this hand I hold an equal number of accounts testifying to the fact that you are not only playing favorites with the students and administering unfair punishments, but that you have let large numbers of the student body leave school on numerous occasions.

Mr. Lancer. You are, by nearly all standards, a poor teacher. I have legal grounds to have any possible case you could put forth to have me expelled thrown out, win a lawsuit against the school in excess of thousands of dollars, and get you fired. All in one fell swoop."

Mr. Lancer was pale now. Very, very pale. The phone sat forgotten as he contemplated some possible way out of this situation.

Danny saved him the trouble. "Sam Manson, Daniel Fenton, and Tucker Foley will not receive a single grade below a B while in this school. Also, you will ignore any unexplained absences from any of the aforementioned students. Do we have a deal?"

The question hung dead in the air. Lancer nodded dumbly as Danny gathered the papers.

Once outside the office, Danny sighed deeply. He had actually pulled it off. Jazz and Sam had had to coach him most of Sunday to actually pull that off, but now he had done it. No more Dash, Paulina, Lancer, or Walker. Life was looking up.

It had been quite the challenge for Jazz to engrain enough of a backbone into him for just one day, but it had paid off. Danny laughed just a little as he moved to his class. Today had barely started, and it had already been very eventful.

Danny looked at the map before him, exasperated. It had been a week since he and Walker had made their "deal." Now, he and, strangely enough, Jazz were feeling very compelled to find some place to start haunting. Oddly, Danny found that he had a perverse want to scare people. Jazz seemed to be getting into the swing of things also.

The fact that there wasn't anywhere that they could continually haunt was getting the better of Danny and Jazz. Sam was on the verge of using a small piece of her life savings to buy a hotel or something so that the Fenton siblings would mellow out.

Sighing, Danny folded up the map and heeded the call of the bell that signaled school was out. He, Sam, Jazz, and Tucker had begun walking to and from school together, instead of using Jazz's car. It was both cheaper and more relaxing for the teens.

"Hey, someone new is moving in," Tucker said as they passed a large stone and brick building. Danny had taken to wandering a little after school. Whenever they, if they did, find a ghost, he took his frustration out on it with Jazz's help. Sam doubted that Skulker would be back anytime soon from what the Fenton, or Phantom siblings had done to him.

The teens looked to where Tucker was pointing. It was an enormous house that they all had seen enough, but it wasn't on their usual route home.

"That's the old Donaldson Museum," Sam identified.

"Mom and Dad have always wanted to take a look at that place," Jazz nodded.

"It's supposed to be haunted," Danny explained. "Although, I don't think that there are any ghosts in it."

"That's a shame. I rather like ghosts," A fifth voice from behind the teens said.

All four of the teens spun to see a relaxed looking man in his late twenties with a basic T-shirt and jeans combo on. He had medium length blond hair and a smooth stance. To the Phantom gang, he looked a little like a hippie.

"Sorry, we just don't get many new people around here. Especially people who buy up enormous hundred-year-old houses," Danny apologized.

"Oh not a problem by any means. Actually, I kind of need a few able-bodies to move some things into my museum. Seeing as the movers have left to get drunk across the street, if you do their work, I think I would rather pay you." The man said, leaving the statement to hang as an invitation for them to give their names.

"Oh, sorry again. I'm Jazz Fenton. This is my brother. And our friends Sam and Tucker," Jazz said, pointing out each person as she went.

"Very nice to make you acquaintance. My name is Blake Derringer. So, would you like to take up the offer?" He asked. The teens looked at each other and nodded. Mr. Derringer had a really warm and comfortable feeling about him, but no weird auras or ghost senses went off to alert them that he was anything but a normal human.

"Sure. We'd love to help," Tucker nodded.

"Good. We better get started unloading then," Mr. Derringer said and led them around to the side of the building where three large moving trucks were parked, along with a red Jaguar.

"Whoa, nice choice in cars." Tucker said as he opened up the back of the first moving van.

"Now," Blake instructed. "A lot of the stuff that the museum once held is still in there, so just set everything in the main entryway. I haven't even been in most of the house yet, so I wouldn't wander off."

All the teens nodded and began to move the odd arrangement of objects into the building.

"Whoa!" Danny said as he stepped in, carrying a box full of something. The others echoed his comment as they moved inside.

"Damn," Blake said slowly. "I keep forgetting how big this place is."

After two hours and some explanatory phone calls to parents, the work was nearing its completion. All that was left was a large piano. Between Danny and Jazz's ghost powers and a few levitation spells from Sam, most of the other heavy items had been cake. Now, though, Blake was watching the piano intently.

"Maybe if we can get a roller underneath it then we can at least get it out of the truck," Blake resolved.

"Here, I'll lift, you guys roll," Tucker said and pulled up on the large instrument. In a surprising feat of strength, he managed to completely lift the piano off the ground. "Oh, wow. I guess I don't know my own strength." The rest of the group watched in awe as Tucker moved the piano out of the truck and into the building.

"We are going to have to talk about that later," Sam whispered when everyone was near enough to hear. Danny nodded, but was, as most of them, already absorbed in the room they were in.