Race Car of Doom
by
Owlcroft
A/N: This is a Beetlejuice/Hardcastle and McCormick cross-over. I know, I know. But I don't think this stuff up myself, you know. It just comes to me.
"I bet you're wondering how I Called you and who I am, huh?" asked Mark McCormick, arms folded across his chest.
Beetlejuice looked at him, then looked around at the elaborate gardens and Grecian fountain. "I'm betting you're kin to Louis the 85th or something. And you Called me through that dinky little side mirror on . . . that . . . car." His voice trailed off and he ran a hand over the bright red race car's front bumper. "You've got a sweet ride, whoever you are."
"Yeah, well, it's a shame you don't recognize me because I was on TV years before you were and my show was a pretty big hit." McCormick preened himself slightly. "You ever heard of 'Hardcastle and McCormick'?"
"Nope." Beetlejuice shrugged. "Is that like 'Rowan and Martin' or something? Two guys who make jokes and sing maybe?"
Mark was outraged. "Okay, then, look at the car! That was famous, too!"
BJ studied the Coyote, then shook his head. "Sorry, bud. I got nothing for you." He perched on the Coyote's hood and studied the irate man who'd Called him. "What do you want, anyway? I was kind of in the middle of something and those beetles aren't going to stay put forever, you know."
"What I want," said McCormick, deliberately, "is our fanfic writer back. She's only written sporadically -"
"Ooh, big vocabulary," muttered Beetlejuice, waving his hands in the air.
"- for years now but she's always concentrated on us, on our show. Now, it's all you! We get a couple of little Christmas stories just because it's traditional and you're getting . . . what, four already, with more in the pipeline? It's not fair and I am not gonna put up with it. So you need to just step back and let her think up stuff for us for a while." Mark held up a placating hand, "We're willing to share, but -" he blinked as the Ghost with the Most snapped up a butterfly with his long, striped tongue. "But most of her stories ought to be about us because we have seniority and our show wasn't a cartoon."
"Oh, yeah? Your show ran before ours, huh? So you watched us, am I right, because you knew how to use the B-words." BJ grinned at the human with the curly hair. "You were a fan!" He cackled loudly.
McCormick scowled. "Yeah, maybe I watched it. A couple of times. When I had nothing better to do."
Beetlejuice kept grinning. "You watched it for the adult humor. And the devastatingly handsome leading man, of course." He ran a hand through his blond mane and struck a pose on the Coyote's hood.
"This is all beside the point! We want our fic writer back in our fandom! You've got lots of them and we're . . . kind of just . . . puttering along." McCormick sighed.
BJ studied his red fingernails. "How many years did your little show run?"
That perked McCormick up. "Three," he said proudly. "And we were in syndication for a couple of years after that. Still show up sometimes in Europe."
"Yeah, great. Ours?" Beetlejuice held up his hand and waggled four fingers with a sly grin. "And we were on two networks at the same time." He buffed his nails on his striped jacket. "Been in and out of syndication ever since." He smirked obnoxiously. "And we had a car, too, you know. But he wasn't famous. He wasn't even in most of the episodes."
Mark leaned against the door of the Coyote disconsolately. "Yeah, that was a problem. Doomie was just a side character for you – a great side character, though. I really liked Doomie, and Pinkie. Just the name was so cool – Dragster of Doom!"
"How old were you in '90?" muttered Beetlejuice.
"But this thing . . ." Mark smacked the Coyote door with his hand. "All those stunts, all the racing stuff, the jumps, the publicity photos. It got all the focus. We got really tired of it."
BJ looked at McCormick thoughtfully. "So what was your show about anyway?"
"Oh, basically we chased after bad guys – usually involving the car, of course; you wouldn't believe how many car chases there were in three seasons – and caught them and saw that 'justice was done'." Mark made air quotes. "The whole premise was supposed to be this friendship that forms between two unlikely people, though."
"Sounds a little familiar," mused Beetlejuice. "So, bottom line, what exactly are you asking me to do?"
McCormick looked into the distance and thought. "Well, I just want equal time, you know. She writes one for you, then she writes one for us? That's not too much to ask."
"You ever thought that maybe she's run out of ideas for your show? Hey," BJ lifted up his hands, "I'm just asking. How long's she been writing for you anyway?"
"More than fifteen years. But a lot slower over the last five or so." Mark stood up and faced the blond ghost. "So what do you say? We got a deal?"
"Hmm. I hate to break it to you, but I have no control over that stuff. You could try asking her." Beetlejuice grinned at McCormick. "In fact, you just did. She's writing this, you know."
"You can't say that!" Mark was aghast. "You just broke the fourth wall!"
BJ shrugged nonchalantly. "Did that all the time in my show. It was part of the humor." He rested his elbow in the air and propped his head on his hand. "Tell you what. I can't do much about that writer, but I will make you an offer. How's about we trade cars for a couple of weeks?"
McCormick was stunned. "You want me to give you the Coyote for two weeks and I get Doomie?"
"Listen, don't forget Doomaroo can fly. Picture yourself -" Beetlejuice held up his hands to frame an imaginary picture, "flying through the air, chasing down those bad guys. Or sailing out over the beach, checking out the chicks, lying on the sand in their skimpy bikinis. Or . . ."
"Hold it! Do you even know how to drive?" Mark was skeptical, but starting to imagine piloting a flying car. "The Coyote has a double clutch transmission."
"Pfff. I have juice. I could drive a picnic table. In fact, I probably have." BJ studied McCormick and then added, "So what do you say? Swap cars. Two weeks. Deal?"
Mark thought hard for a moment, then nodded. "Deal. But what about the fic writer?"
Beetlejuice waved a hand casually. "Let her get her own car."
