American Gothic Passion Play
byline: Anubis C. Soundwave
2. When did this start becoming normal, anyway?
"Take off that damned burqa," snorts Eva. "Eppie's not that far gone."
"I'm going to waste my Saturday afternoon-which I wanted to spend with my friends-hanging out with Zack," says Sam as she complies. "It was a form of protest against his violation of my personal shabbat." She slips on a simple lavender dress and a black knit sweater.
"Your great-uncle has his reasons," says Eva balefully. "Stupid reasons-but he's not the source of the stupidity."
"I can't begin to fathom Uncle Ephraim's reasons," says Sam as she puts on her black boots. "Being with Zack is technically work," she continues. "I'm supposed to spend this time with family and friends."
"Eppie and Zack are family," admonishes Eva.
"Uncle Ephraim's family. Zack...is a chore," says Sam, rubbing her arms.
Eva sighs.
Walking past Sam's room, Jeremy stops near the door to silently observe Sam's continued chat with Eva. He sighs, then takes out his cell phone and heads to the elevator leading downstairs, softly humming a tune.
"Did you even try to rinse that color garbage out of your hair, Zachary?" asks Ephraim sternly.
"I did, Gramps," says Zack, scowling as he presents his chestnut-brown hair with streaks of black to Ephraim.
"Make sure to look like a civilized human being for once," continues Ephraim. "I know that Samantha will try for my sake."
"She doesn't have to," Zack shrugs. "I'm the one who invited her over, remember?"
"Yes," says Ephraim. "Do you remember, Zachary, the discussion we had when you suggested this?" Ephraim gives Zack a penetrating glare.
"Your grandson has been...antisocial at school lately," said Coach Eisinger.
"And Zack's grades are, frankly, not where they need to be for us to justify his presence on the football team," added Principal Covington.
"You were able to justify Zachary's shoddy scholarship before," spat Ephraim.
"He was restricting his aggressive sociopathy to the football field before," said Covington curtly. "Unfortunately, it has spread to Elmerton's campus."
"Please, Ephraim," said Eisinger, "listen. I don't want Zack off the team and neither does Covington. We have a strong shot at the state championship, and Zack's the head of our spear."
"What is the source of all of this aggression?" said Ephraim. "I really want you both to get to the point, because it's almost sunset, and I have candles to light."
"Zack is...fiercely infatuated with a young woman from Casper High," said Covington, presenting a manila folder to Ephraim.
Ephraim took the folder and opened it. "I see. He's still lusting after my great-niece," he snorted, "who has her pick of young men at her own school if she so desires, and so has no reason to plumb the depths of her family's genetic well. Neither does Zachary, who has no shortage of young women at Elmerton willing to fling themselves at him."
"Zack wants Samantha in a bad way," said Eisinger, frowning. "He's my team's star, and I want to keep him happy. A steady girlfriend would do that."
"You're basically asking me to play matchmaker between my grandson and my great-niece to betroth them," said Ephraim in disbelief, "because you want the Dire Wolves to win a tin cup."
"In so many words," said Covington, "yes. And it's also my responsibility to ensure the safety of the other students in my school."
"Have any of you considered Samantha's well-being?" asked Ephraim.
"She's a student at another school," said Covington, "so I'm not particularly concerned about her well-being."
"We need Zack to get over her so that he can focus on his game and his grades," added Eisinger. "Otherwise, I have to cut Zack from the team."
"He needs the team to make it into a decent college," sighed Ephraim. "I...will ask Samantha if she will consent to this. Now get out of my house."
Eisinger and Covington glanced at each other a moment, then rose from the couch; Covington took back the manila folder. Both men exit the house.
Ephraim dialed a number on his phone. "Zachary!" bellowed Ephraim into the phone. "Turn off that death metal crap and report to my study immediately..." He hung up, then entered his study.
Zack walked down the steps and entered the study.
"Do you understand what I expect of you, Zachary?" asked Ephraim.
"Yes, sir," said Zack, sullen. "I was just venting to the coach, Gramps; I didn't expect him or the principal to take me seriously."
"They did," said Ephraim, "because they know that you're impulsive and are liable to do something stupid if left to your own devices."
Zack started to open his mouth, but kept silent.
"And I'm taking you very seriously," continued Ephraim, "because I know how this story will end if I don't take action to keep peace in my house. So, Zachary," Ephraim grinned, clamping his hand on Zack's shoulder, "if we are to do this thing, I will make sure that you court Samantha properly: show her that you are a man who merits her respect and honor."
"'Court her...'?" mouthed Zack silently in disbelief.
"I have already emailed Eva my wishes," said Ephraim. "The reality is, while I have faith that your earlier indiscretion with Samantha was simply a misstep of your youth, you have yet to change your ways toward women in general. You must prove yourself worthy enough to regain Samantha's trust."
"I kissed her when I was fourteen and she was twelve!" balked Zack.
"And she fled in terror, hiding behind her father," said Ephraim.
"Oh, yeah-Jerry: who alluded to 2 Samuel as he threatened to blow my head off with a fucking shotgun," scowled Zack, trembling.
"If you wrong Samantha in any way," glowered Ephraim, "I will not wait for Jeremy-who is as much of a son to me as your father was-to exact vengeance. Though you are my grandson," he continued, "if you prove yourself to be an enemy of my house, I will kill you myself: with my bare hands."
Zack stared at Ephraim, his eyes wide with horror.
"Choose life, Zachary, and turn your heart away from evil," said Ephraim. "Twice you have been warned. You may return to your death metal."
"Thank you, Gramps..." said Zack slowly; he left the study.
Zack lowers his head, but looks Ephraim in the eye. "Y...yes, sir," he says.
"Good," says Ephraim. "I also see that you've ironed your shirt and put on a pair of burgundy slacks. Put on a black tie and comb your hair," he continues, "and Samantha might wonder what happened to you."
"You happened to me, Gramps," says Zack wryly.
Ephraim turns his head as he hears a knock at the door. "She's here now," he grins. "I'll get the door; you finish up."
"Yes, sir," says Zack, picking up a comb.
Ephraim leaves.
Zack tosses away the comb, runs his fingers through his hair, and slides a condom into his pants pocket. He takes a black tie out of his sock drawer and dons it. "I guess," he smirks, "that I'm ready."
Sam, with Danny and Tucker, smiles at Ephraim.
Ephraim looks Sam over. "Samantha," he says in delight, "you look..." Ephraim's words and tone trail off when he notes Sam's familiar combat boots. "You look...like a lovely girl who enjoys making fun of me," he says wryly.
"The boots stay on, Uncle," says Sam.
"I hope you are wearing more than your boots when you say that to other men, young lady," quips Ephraim.
"You're Grandma's older brother, all right," says Sam as she enters the house.
Danny and Tucker start to follow her in, but Ephraim blocks them.
"Uncle Ephraim," says Sam. "Either my non-Jewish friends come in, or I leave."
"Zack didn't invite them," groans Ephraim, "and I didn't make enough dinner for everyone."
"Tucker can have my share," says Sam. "You're going to try to guilt-trip me into eating your roast chicken dinner, but I came prepared with a packed vegetarian meal I made Thursday night," she adds, pulling out an insulated lunch bag with a plastic container inside.
"You're exasperating on a good day, Samantha," says Ephraim, shaking his head.
"You keep calling me 'Samantha', yet I allow you to live," smirks Sam. "I think we're even."
"I changed your father's diapers, young lady," pouts Ephraim, "so I will call you the name your father gave you...Samantha."
Danny notes the mirth in both Sam and Ephraim's eyes. "I think they secretly enjoy the banter at this point," he whispers to Tucker.
"Yeah," says Tucker. "They're more alike than they'd care to admit. Except at least Ephraim's not an ultra-recyclo vegetarian-so I still get to eat real food. That roast chicken smells delicious."
"Mr. Mendelsohn obviously expected this to be a private family gathering," says Danny. "Let's not make ourselves lousy houseguests."
"I won't," says Tucker.
Sam enters the dining room, noting a tablecloth and lit candles. "Are you trying to woo me, Uncle?" she asks.
"What will I do with you, young lady!?" balks Ephraim.
"There's even iced Manischewitz," snorts Sam. "You'd think if someone was courting me, he'd get better kosher wine than this generic bit of fermented grape juice."
"Unlike you," grins Zack as he enters the dining room, "I'm not made of money."
"They use corn syrup most of the year," says Sam, studying the wine bottle. "At least Uncle Ephraim had the decency to pull from his stash of the true kosher stuff."
"Naturally," says Zack. "He's a rabbi."
"Let's meet in the living room," says Sam, returning to Danny and Tucker.
"Sure," says Zack, "why not?" He puts his hands in his pockets, then follows Sam out of the dining room.
After dinner, Ephraim calls Danny and Tucker into his study.
"Any reason why we're in here?" asks Danny as he enters after Tucker, leaving the door open to keep an eye on Sam and Zack.
"I held my peace while you freely spewed your beliefs-or lack thereof-at my table," says Ephraim, smirking. "Now I have a few questions for you, Daniel."
"Please, Mr. Mendelsohn," says Danny. "Everyone I like calls me Danny, and you're a likeable guy, sir."
Ephraim sighs. "I ask you to forgive me, young man," he says. "I was always stolid and serious, even when I was young; to this day, I never fell in the habit of using nicknames."
"Then, as your alternative would be to call me Jackson, which even my dad doesn't use except when he's role-playing...Daniel it is," smiles Danny.
"Good," says Ephraim, smiling back. "You're not nearly as intractable as Samantha."
"Yeah," says Danny. "She could write a master's thesis on sticking to one's guns."
"Especially on the vegetarian front," adds Tucker, grinning as he observes Sam's animated chat with Zack.
"The last time she dined on cooked animal flesh," says Ephraim, "it was before she was old enough to tell us 'no'. Except for one odd moment when that burly Aryan-looking fellow you all go to school with tricked her into eating Eruca bos scrofa salad," he adds wryly.
"I wouldn't have imagined Dash knowing enough Latin to be that clever," admits Danny.
"He even put in the extra effort to make the perfectly grilled and seasoned beef and pork look and taste like arugula," adds Tucker. "No wonder he got an A in home economics."
"But Samantha and David-that would be 'Mr. Sokol' to you," grins Ephraim, "got back at him by subverting his family's precious 'Baxter Burger Thursday'. The cheese and burgers were all made of tofu."
"That's...just evil," breathes Tucker. "Almost as bad as burying a perfectly-edible cow!"
"Let Steak rest in peace!" quips Sam from the couch.
"You see?" says Ephraim. "She can hear us. Let's shut the door."
"I...have to go to the bathroom," says Danny. He leaves the study.
"A buried cow?" wonders Ephraim, shutting the door behind Danny. "You have to tell me more of this."
Tucker sighs, then explains the 'buried cow' to Ephraim.
Danny walks into the bathroom, turns himself invisible, then walks into the living room...
...only to discover Sam and Zack missing.
Danny sighs, irritated and worried. Remaining invisible, he races through the house to locate Sam and Zack; he finds the two of them inside the den. Danny phases his head inside the door.
"...and I'm telling you that it's none of your business!" spits Sam. "I don't give a damn about your curiosity."
Zack chuckles, holding Sam's hand. "It's an honest question," he says. "If you haven't popped your cherry yet," he continues, "I'd love to do it; and if you have popped it, I want to see what you've learned."
"One way or the other, Zack," says Sam, "I'd like to keep that information private. Please respect that."
"Was it Danny?" grins Zack.
"End this inquiry now," scowls Sam, snatching away her hand.
"Fine," says Zack. "It doesn't matter, Sam. The fact is: I want you."
"You're my cousin," says Sam.
"I don't give a fuck about that," says Zack, eyeing Sam hungrily. "Be my girl."
"Zack, if I were desperate enough to want a jock, I have a glut of them to choose from at my own school, and four of them are Jewish-including Rex Grieseman," says Sam balefully. "Furthermore, none of them are sexist garbage like you."
"I know; the Ravens are well-trained beta males," snorts Zack, annoyed.
"My point is simply that girls are more to any of them than living tube socks," says Sam, "and there's nothing about you compelling enough to make me take the plunge into the incest pool with you. Let it drop."
"How can you dismiss me without even trying me?" asks Zack.
"I don't have to walk into a gas chamber to know it's going to kill me," spits Sam. "How many times must I tell you? I don't return your feelings. I reject your feelings. I. Don't. Want. You."
Zack grips Sam's wrist. "Then who do you want?" he hisses. "Who makes you wet at night?"
"Let go of me," snarls Sam.
Danny pulls his head out, materializes, and barges into the room. "I don't recommend going in the bathroom for a while!" he crows, waving his hand in front of his face. "The food was great, and it really helped me clean my colon," he adds, grinning.
Zack drops Sam's arm in shock and disgust. "Dude, did you at least flush!?" he asks in horror.
"Maybe," says Danny, smirking as he sits between Sam and Zack; he winks at Sam, who smiles back. "Cool, brownies," Danny adds, grabbing a brownie.
"Suddenly I'm not in the mood for dessert," glowers Zack, narrowing his eyes at Danny.
"I don't eat cake-style brownies during shabbat," says Sam. "Not kosher."
"Our dietary rules can choke on my balls," spits Zack.
Danny laughs. "If God were real, I'd thank him for letting me be an atheist," he says, "because these brownies are awesome."
"Gramps baked them on Thursday," says Zack. "He got the recipe from this hot bitch in a blue spandex jumpsuit."
"So that's why these taste so familiar," says Danny. "That 'hot bitch', by the way, is my mom," he continues, "who's married to the one guy in town who's a lot bigger than you."
Zack stares at Danny. "I all but said that I want to fuck your mom," he says.
"You wouldn't be the first guy to say that," says Danny, grabbing another brownie. "You're not even the most dangerous guy who wants to bump uglies with my mom."
Sam chokes back laughter as she and Danny glance at each other.
"Is this some inside joke?" wonders Zack.
"Yeah, pretty much, Zack," says Sam. "Don't think about it too hard."
Ephraim enters the den. "Samantha," he says, smiling, "it's past sunset."
Sam stands. "I've just got to see that third star," she says. Sam walks out of the den with Ephraim.
A minute passes.
"Dude," mutters Zack. "You didn't have to cock-block me like that."
"True," says Danny, "but from the moment I entered your house, you set me on edge. I will protect the people I love from anyone I think is dangerous," he continues, "and I get the feeling that you're dangerous. Just not as dangerous as you think you are." Danny stands and stretches.
Zack studies Danny.
"I'm going to get Tucker before he scarfs all of your leftovers. Your grandfather's a great cook," smiles Danny. He leaves the den.
Zack glares at the ground, then stands and leaves the den.
"We are the children of light, Samantha," sighs Ephraim, sad. "I worry about Zachary."
"Don't," says Sam curtly. "Zack had his bar mitzvah years ago, and he's legally an adult. He needs to hold himself accountable."
"And what of you?" asks Ephraim.
"I'm a big girl," says Sam, grinning. "Even so, I can't give Zack what he wants," she adds.
"What do you think he wants?" asks Ephraim.
Sam shrugs. "I don't know. Zack himself doesn't know," she says.
"He won't find what he seeks listening to those idiot friends of his at Elmerton High," Ephraim seethes, "or losing himself between the thighs of confused young women. Yes, I know all of it! I worry for you, Samantha," he continues, "because...I don't know. I want peace, but Zachary seeks darkness."
Sam sighs, looking at her watch, then at the sky as a third star appears. "All that you can do at this point is pray, Uncle Ephraim," she says.
A red car pulls up to the Mendelsohns' house.
"My ride," says Sam. "Normally, I'd just ride home with my friends," she adds, "but the debate team's up against Amity Prep, so one of my teammates volunteered for the pickup."
Ephraim grins wryly at Sam as he looks between her and the red car. "Don't study your subjects too closely," he says cannily.
The driver, Dash, lowers the passenger window. "Tonight, Manson!" he bellows.
"That particular subject," says Sam, rolling her eyes as she jerks her thumb at Dash, "is dense and incomprehensible." She heads to Dash's car and enters the passenger side.
The car drives off; Ephraim slaps his forehead, then sighs, despondent as he slumps down onto the steps to his house.
Tucker's parents arrive in a minivan.
Ephraim grins. I'm sure Samantha goes into hysterics over their fuel inefficiency, he says to himself as Tucker emerges from the house with Danny.
Tucker heads to the minivan. "See you tomorrow, Danny," he says before entering the vehicle.
The minivan drives off.
Ephraim studies Danny a moment. "You're...not leaving with your friend?" he asks.
"I've got stuff to do tonight," says Danny. "I'll make it home."
"What will you do," scoffs Ephraim, "fly?"
"No," grins Danny. "That'd be stupid."
"It's a long walk from Elmerton to Amity Park," notes Ephraim.
"Yeah, but if I'm in a bind, I'll call my parents," says Danny.
"You're not embarrassed by that neon armored SUV of theirs?" wonders Ephraim.
Danny chuckles. "Not anymore," he says. "I can't change who my parents are...nor do I want to."
"You're too young to be so wise and jaded, Daniel," says Ephraim. "What is with your generation?"
"I'm sure your grandfather thought the same thing," snorts Danny.
"I wish I had the opportunity to hear my grandfathers kvetch when Eva and I were your age," says Ephraim, "but they were murdered getting my family out of Europe."
"I never met my grandfathers, either," says Danny. "One was a nice guy who blew his brains out when my dad was fifteen," he continues, "while the other was an asshole who raped my maternal aunt and a bunch of other girls-all while abusing his wife; it's to the point where my mom can't bring herself to have my sister and me meet our only living grandmother."
"What happened to your paternal grandmother?" asks Ephraim, touched.
"She died giving birth to my dad," says Danny simply.
"And yet...your family isn't filled with brokenness and strife," says Ephraim. "There is love, and kindness, and joy. Samantha," he adds, "has so much respect for you."
"We're friends," grins Danny. "We respect each other, sir."
"Good," says Ephraim. "Sometimes I think Adonai allows for atheists just to see if any of us will be decent human beings without being frightened to righteousness. It's tiresome to be an almighty bogeyman, don't you think?"
"I hardly think of a robed Old Testament Santa Claus when I think of the bogeyman," snickers Danny.
"We have such childish views of God as a concept," says Ephraim, "and as a result, we have yet to develop that morality that Nietzsche preached: the morality we need to show Adonai that we have finally learned from our fall from Eden."
"That we need a system of morality independent of religion," says Danny.
Ephraim nods. "There are men who do not fear judgment, in this world or the next, and do evil for its own sake," he says. "Oddly-enough," he continues, "Adonai himself answered Nietzsche's question a long time ago. You call it the Second Commandment."
"'Love thy neighbor as thyself'," says Danny.
"It got reiterated twice in that fiction you goyim call the New Testament," says Ephraim. "Once by quotation, and once by restatement: the latter dubbed 'the Golden Rule'. It was rephrased in numerous ways, across multiple faiths."
"Easier said than done," says Danny. "Or maybe we're confused," he continues, "and we don't love ourselves, so we don't know how to love our neighbors and do unto them as we would have them do unto us."
"I pray and pray," says Ephraim, morose, "that Zachary will learn to truly love himself, and soon."
"You can only pray for so long," says Danny. "At some point, you've got to do something."
"If I cannot save Zachary's life," says Ephraim, staring into Danny's eyes, "then I want to at least save his soul."
Danny backs away from Ephraim, unnerved by the elder man's heartbroken gaze. "If...if Fenton Works discovers that angels are real," he stammers, "then I'll find one and...put in a good word."
Ephraim smiles, dabbing away tears. "I know I sound mad," he says. "Zachary...is all I have. I don't want him to die, but if he continues his ways, someone will kill him-and they would be right to do so."
This...is morbid shit. Sam isn't nearly as hardcore, muses Danny as he studies Ephraim. "I've...imposed on your hospitality long enough. Eat your brownies," he says aloud, smiling. "You've done my mom's recipe a great honor."
"Thank you, Daniel," says Ephraim, "for listening."
"Not a problem," says Danny. "I'll see you Thursday if you're catching our debate team." He leaves Ephraim alone on the steps.
Ephraim chuckles. "Perhaps Adonai has sent me an angel to entertain," he says, "and the angel likes brownies." Ephraim enters his house.
"Shinji really stepped up to the plate tonight," says Dash. "He kicked ass."
"I'm sure the Ishikawas are happy," adds Sam. "Now our principal will brag about both of her sons."
"Yeah," says Dash. "Shiro won't harass Shinji so much."
"You mean the way you torment Elgin?" quips Sam.
"Elgin invites bullies. 'Come hither, you boorish oafs,'" continues Dash, mocking Elgin as he pushes back an imaginary lock of hair, "'and gaze at my magnificent blond mane'. We've got a kid who's about 150 pounds of muscle whose greatest fear is a pair of scissors."
"That's still better than the 184-pound varsity jock whose greatest fear is being seen wearing a pair of glasses," says Sam, gently elbowing Dash.
Dash lifts Sam over his head. "Not a good idea to poke fun at a guy who can dead-lift you," he smirks, "seeing as you're-at most-115 pounds soaking wet."
"I'm 121, champ," smirks Sam. "Now put me down."
"Sorry," says Dash, setting Sam down on her feet. "I got carried away."
"You've got to find a different way to channel that enthusiasm of yours," says Sam.
"I've got some ideas..." drawls Dash, pulling Sam into his arms.
Sam's eyes widen a moment as she blushes, then she gives Dash a wry look. "Could you at least pretend to fight that particular stereotype?" Sam asks as she smiles at Dash.
"Why?" asks Dash, touching Sam's chin. "It's a natural extension of our raw physicality," he says, "and you should quit pretending to find that offensive."
"I will only concede that it's the least offensive thing about you," says Sam.
Dash rolls his eyes, then kisses Sam.
Sam gently breaks the kiss. "We...don't have time for that," she says, noting her parents and Dash's family headed their way.
"When did this start becoming normal, anyway?" asks Dash, gazing into Sam's eyes.
"I'm not sure," says Sam. "Likely after we stopped caring about externalities."
Dash puts a hand on Sam's shoulder in a friendly grip. "You've got me spoiled rotten, Manson," he says, smiling. "I have to make you pay for that for the rest of your life."
"How?" asks Sam.
"By binding you to me in a legal contract of sexual exclusivity until you or I die," says Dash.
"Dash," says Sam, "let's hold off on marriage proposals until we both can sign legally-binding contracts...and buy engagement rings from more reputable jewelers than a candy dispenser."
"What did you want from me back then?" chuckles Dash. "I was seven. I'm amazed that you recall something stupid I did ten years ago."
"It's remarkable," says Sam, "because it was a stupidly-sweet gesture, which stands out from your long list of stupid jerk behavior, which I can't logically ignore."
"Understandable," says Dash. "I still love you, though."
"I know," says Sam. "It's infuriating."
"I can't help being a jerk," says Dash, "and you can't help being weird." He kisses Sam on the cheek, then walks up to meet his family.
Sam hugs herself as Jeremy and Pamela approach. I don't know what's worse, she muses. The fact that I share his feelings, or the fact that I'm scared to death of loving him?
"Ready to head home, Sammy?" asks Jeremy, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder.
Sam sighs. "Yeah," she says. Sam follows Jeremy and Pamela to their car.
The three Mansons enter the car; it drives off.
Lurking in the bushes, Zack tenses his fists as he glares at Dash and his family, hate and jealousy in his eyes.
The Phantom, behind Zack, taps Zack on the shoulder.
Zack turns around.
"Boo," the Phantom whispers.
Zack yelps, startled. "Why did you scare me?" he asks after calming down.
"What? I'm a ghost," says the Phantom, "or at least half of one. It's part of our union rules."
"I know you've been stalking me, dude," says Zack, drawing himself up to his full height to intimidate the Phantom. "Why are you on my ass?"
"Because based on the evidence, Zack," says the Phantom, "guardian angels don't exist: so I've elected to stick myself with the shitty job of being yours. This way, your poor grandfather can take a break."
Zack glowers at the Phantom.
"Don't feel singled out," continues the Phantom. "You're just one more person I have to protect. The only unique quality you have," he adds, "is that I have to protect you from yourself."
"Don't bother, then," spits Zack. "I just wanted to see the kind of guy Sam would deem worthy of her lips, that she would spurn me."
"Way to deflect personal responsibility there," snorts the Phantom. "Have you even considered that she rejected you because you're an insufferable asshole, and it's irrelevant who she'd rather fuck?"
"I would concede defeat to anyone...except Dash Baxter," seethes Zack.
"Look," says the Phantom. "Dash has been a jerkass to a lot of people, but you've never been one of those people," he continues, "so I have no sympathy for your rage."
"If I could just kill him..." hisses Zack.
"Then what? Sam will magically get wet at the prospect of sucking you off? the Phantom sneers. "I doubt that highly," he continues, "as she has two male friends, one of whom would be glad to fill her void. Are you going to kill them next?"
"I could snap Danny Fenton's neck in two," snorts Zack.
"And then Jack Fenton would break every bone in your body," counters the Phantom. "But let's not kid ourselves, Zachary: Danny's not nearly as easy to kill as you think he is, and he will never let you harm the people he loves."
"What do you know!?" roars Zack.
"I know that you need to get a grip," says the Phantom tersely. "I know that slamming face-first into the brick wall of reality hurts, but you've got to accept the pain and move on. I know," he adds, "that you're a selfish, narcissistic jackass, and Sam Manson has already met another selfish, narcissistic jackass who at least has the decency to respect her-if for no other reason than the fact that his mother put the fear of her unending wrath into him a long time ago."
Zack stares at the Phantom.
"I have been watching Amity Park for three years now," continues the Phantom, "and I know this town's stories and its darkest secrets. The whole thing has made me rather jaded and cynical about your impotent fury at Dash Baxter."
"Fuck you," spits Zack.
"Not even if I were gay, dude," says the Phantom. "Go jack off your rage into a tube sock and let Sam go. You'll be happier in the long run-and you'll avoid prison."
Zack storms away, scowling.
Frowning, the Phantom overshadows Zack. In Zack's body, the Phantom flies to Zack's house in Elmerton, phases inside Zack's room, takes out a pair of socks from a drawer, then sits on Zack's bed before exiting Zack.
Zack looks around in shock, looking up to see the Phantom glaring down at him.
"I didn't give you a suggestion, Zack," the Phantom says glibly, wearing a thin smile. "Onanism is healthier for your soul under the circumstances, so take care of yourself. I will be watching you."
Zack gives the Phantom a crude grin as he exposes himself.
"I won't watch you do that literally!" balks the Phantom. "Just don't leave home." The Phantom phases out of Zack's room, bewildered.
NEXT: Expect the worst; hope for the best.