Chapter 12: Party Planning

"Wait, why am I here? What am I supposed to do? And why am I in another ridiculous dress?!" Lydia spouted off, feeling the left over irritation from his previous antics at the theatre.

"Woah, Babe. You need to lighten up!" Beetlejuice took a step back, clearly attempting to look apalled and make a big scene about her reluctance. Suddenly, a large bottle of booze poofed into Lydia's hand. "There, that'll do it." Beetle snorted, before turning to leave her alone.

What was he going to do, just leave her to get wasted and sulk in a corner by herself? Gerald would certainly be in his study, and he'd probably be a whole lot less irritating than the poltergeist, so Lydia decided she'd just leave Beetle to his prowling.

"Oh, thank god it's you..." Gerald peeked from the crack in his door, before fully opening it, and allowing Lydia inside. "Is uh...he here, as well?" he asked, his expression full of dread.

"Yep..." Lydia sighed, stepping into the slightly-less noisy room. She looked to Gerald, noticing that he'd averted his eyes bashfully from her showy ensemble. "Oh, um, I didn't pick these clothes. I really didn't mean to barge in here half-naked. This was all BJ's doing..." Lydia explained, feeling a bit embarrassed herself.

"It's quite alright. I'm not surprised." he replied, wiping the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "Has he told you how he plans to scare them?"

"Not yet." Lydia shook her head. "He's probably trying to decide which unfortunate soul gets stuck with his ass..."

The room fell awkwardly quiet for a brief moment, before Gerald opened his mouth again, with a hint of curiosity etched on his features. "Didn't you say he tried to marry you once?"

Lydia sighed, before hesitantly nodding. Not the highlight of her previous life, that was for sure. "Yeah. Let's just say it didn't work out..." Lydia cringed internally, remembering not only her desperation that day, but her broken deal to a certain insane ghost.

"I'm sorry if I'm prying. I'm just a bit curious how that even came to be. Did he do the same things to you? You know - all that crazed harrassment?" Gerald asked, wincing when the music outside his room suddenly cranked up a few more decibels, shaking the pictures on his walls.

"Well...sort of. He was actually stalking my friends, Adam and Barbara. Well, they're more than friends. They're more like a second set of parents to me. They were newly deceased, and my family had moved in on their personal space. My step mother turned their house into some awful post modern nightmare fuel. And BJ...Well, he persuaded them to use his services on my family to scare them away, and he did scare the living hell out of them...and me..." she grimaced, remembering how young and afraid she'd been when she was face to face with his large, serpentine form.

"So you were alive then. He didn't kill you did he?" Gerald asked worriedly.

"Oh, no! He's an asshole, but he didn't murder me or anything! That's not even why I'm here. My step mother's obtuse friend had the bright idea of performing a seance. He wanted to talk to them, but ended up almost exorcising them instead. God, he was stupid..." Lydia muttered, clearly not missing Otho's tendency to be sure of his abilities to the point of delusion. "Anyway, BJ made a deal with me: if I married him and gave him the ability to get out into the land of the living, then he'd save my friends. Of course, I didn't really have a choice at that point, so I agreed."

"Did he save them?" Gerald continued his curiosity-fueled inquiry, seeming to become more intrigued by the minute.

"Yeah, he did actually. He held up his end of the bargain." Lydia admitted, her lips turning up in a half-grin.

"So, what happened? Did you die before he finished the wedding? Was that it?" Gerald asked, sitting on the edge of his seat. Apparently, this man loved a good story.

"No, believe it or not, it was me who double-crossed him. He made the wedding happen immediately, and I kept saying 'no', and trying to stall so I wouldn't have to marry him. Adam and Barbara were trying to stop him, and then Barbara kind of...made a Sandworm eat him..." Lydia said, wincing.

"Wow...Amazing..." Gerald remarked, looking truly astonished. "And you say you two are friends after all that? Remarkable..."

"Well, I met up with him later after I died in a car crash. I kind of felt horrible for doing that to him, even if he is an insane lunatic. So, long story short, I'm trying to help him get to the other side now. I guess I'm trying to make amends for all that." Lydia explained, still feeling a slight sting inside from remembering the Sandworm. Geez, that had to hurt.

Gerald paused for a moment, as if running things over in his mind. He then smiled warmly. "You have a good heart, young lady. I doubt many people would help such a crass soul, even in those circumstances. Too bad he missed his chance to be with such a kind woman. Of course, that's probably a good thing for you," Gerald chuckled.

Lydia laughed along with him, surprised with his good-natured remarks. "Thank you, Gerald. That's very kind of you. I'm sure BJ will be fine. It wasn't that kind of marriage, anyway. He's just looking to get out."

"So, what happens when he gets out? Will we ever hear from him again? Hopefully not..." Gerald muttered the last part to himself, appearing troubled.

"I...uh...I'm not really sure." Lydia admitted, feeling a strange emotion overcome her. What if he never came back? Was the effect permanent, or just until his living spouse died? Was she going utterly mad? Why did it matter if Beetlejuice was gone for good? She wasn't actually going to miss him, was she?

Beetlejuice leaned against a wall, taking a drag off his cigarette, and eyeing the two prime cuts he could possibly sink his teeth into. His grimy lips curled into a predatory smile, as he laughed darkly to himself, watching the two young women dance about in a drunken stupor.

"Just mah type..." he drawled, stepping closer to get a better look. It hadn't taken him long to learn a little about them, from merely observing them for a short while. Ashley and Shelly were their names, and he'd be a dumb fucker if he didn't have them memorized, since the two broads kept yammering and slurring each others' names every thirty seconds.

To be honest, it was a hard choice. He could go with Ashley - stupid, blonde hair, big tits, and had a nice ass. Then there was Shelly - also stupid, brunette hair, big tits, and a nice ass.

"Decisions, decisions..." Beetle said, flicking his smoke away and cracking his knuckles as he watched Shelly trip over a six pack of beer and faceplant into the carpet. He looked on, as a big, ugly dude helped her up, and she promplty thanked him by proceeding to make out with said big, ugly dude. "Good manners, too..." he sniggered, hoping that maybe he'd get some action eventually. Hell, the broads would make out with a fucking toaster oven right about now, so surely he could sneak a bit of fun in before the wedding.

He realized it wouldn't take much to scare the daylights out of this crowd of intoxicated assholes. Technically, he could do it right now and just get it all the hell over with. Of course, there was that fucking thing that was irking him to the core - the issue of Lydia-freakin'-Deetz. Deep, deep down in the recesses of his twisted, perverse mind, he knew that he'd been stalling. He'd simply lied to Deetz, telling her he wanted to plan ahead this time so he didn't get screwed over again.

And if he really wanted to fuck with his own mind, he knew deep down that these young, hot broads paled in comparison to Lydia. Why did Deetz have to be the single most beautiful chick he'd laid eyes on, both living and dead? There was just something about those big, doe eyes and that long, dark hair that cascaded just below those great honkers. Ah, but that wasn't even the half of it, Beetle reasoned. Lydia treated him different than anyone else ever had. She was kind and tolerant in such a way that turned him into the utmost pussy on every fathomable level in the realm of existence. Needless to say, he didn't like that shit, but he did like her - a lot.

If Lydia had only been alive at that particular moment, he could pop the question in an instant, and he could've weaseled his way into making her believe it was for some shitty deal-breaking reasons. He wouldn't have had to tell her the truth. Much to his disappointment, she was dead as fuck, and he wouldn't get out if he stuck with her.

Beetle sighed, removing his glasses and stuffing them into one of his absurdly endless pockets, nestling them between the festering swarm of snakes and insects within. "Shit." he muttered, realizing he stood at an impasse. Did he really want to get out that badly? Hell yeah, he did! He could always come back to the Neitherworld to visit her, right? Of course, she probably wouldn't want to put up with his stupid ass anymore. She may never want another thing to do with him again, just like every other dead beat in the afterlife. Hell, he couldn't blame her, since he'd kinda acted like a stupid maniac everytime he felt his insides turn to goop around her.

"Oooohhh shit..." he stated again, realizing that for the first time since he'd learned how to get to the other side, that he wasn't so damned sure he still wanted to go there. This couldn't be happening. Not to him. Not to the ghost with the most.

"Where is Deetz, anyway?" he mumbled to himself, noticing that he had seen hide nor hair of her since he'd went his merry way. Maybe he'd just take her home and let her go. She was doing some crazy shit to his head, and he wasn't so sure of himself anymore. It wasn't like he had a chance with her, anyway.

Lydia had long moved past her awkward conversation about Beetlejuice, and now she'd been leisurely discussing various favorite books and artists with Gerald, who'd proved to be quite pleasant company. However, their banter was interrupted by none other than the poltergeist himself, who poofed into the room unnanounced, in a cloud of vile, green smoke.

"Alright, Babe. I got it down. Now lets scram. Jerryboy, you know what to do. The name. Call it thrice. You know the drill. I'll be ready and waitin'." he stated with a hint of frustration in his voice for god knew what reason, before grabbing Lydia by the hand and forcefully pulling her out of her seat.

"Geez, I can get up by myself..." Lydia groaned, before turning to Gerald, who seemed to be completely confused.

"Look, Mr. B, I'd really like to know the specifics of what you're going to do." Gerald stated, his nervous disposition obvious in his voice.

"Specifics? Really? Does it really fuckin' matter how I scare these dumb bitches, as long as I do it?" Beetle grumbled, pulling Lydia closer to himself.

"Well, uh..." Gerald began, until Beetle cut him off, causing Lydia to glare at him.

"That's what I thougt, Jerr." he grinned, before pulling Lydia into him and vanishing.

Soon after, Lydia was back in the roadhouse with the poltergeist, who instantly materialized a bottle of booze in his hand, before turning to her. The look on his face was...peculiar. She didn't actually know how to read it. Was Beetlejuice in some sort of serious mood?

"Alright. You're done, Deetz. It's over. Complete. Finito." Beetle stated, before quickly downing a large amount of alcohol.

"Wait, what?" Lydia asked, baffled.

"The deal. You helped me out. I can take it from here, Toots." Beetlejuice continued, before nodding toward the door and causing the freakishly large chains to unlock, falling to the floor. "Well, there's the door. Yer free, Dollface."

Lydia noticed that he didn't seem hostile or completely insane for once. If he wasn't already dead, she'd have thought he was dying. And was that a small hint of disappointment in his voice? And why in the blue hell was she feeling kind of rejected and sad right now? Did he not want her around anymore? Just why did she care again?

"A-are you kicking me out?" Lydia blurted out before even thinking.

"What?!" Beetlejuice asked, seeming completely surprised by her question. "Uh...Didn't you want to get the hell outta here? Like away from me and shit?"

"I, uh...don't really have a place to go. I just wanted the chains gone so I could have some freedom, that's all." she replied, suddenly feeling like a complete fool for admitting that she didn't want to run screaming out the door.

"So let me get this shit straight: our deal is done, and you want to stay. Here. With me." he spat, shooting her a look of disbelief.

"It's okay. I can go if you want..." Lydia spoke, feeling completely and utterly dejected, and for what reason, she didn't really want to admit. Beetlejuice wasn't actually a bad guy, and he could be quite tolerable half the time. She actually believed he found her tolerable too, until now. Now, she wasn't so sure what she'd done to piss him off, but it must have been huge for him to just end their deal prematurely like that.

"Now, hold up, Sweetcheeks. I didn't say you had to leave. I said yer free. You can do whatever the hell ya want. If ya wanna stay, then fuckin' stay. I don't care." he grumbled. "I just said I can take it from here, Toots. Ya don't owe me no more."

Suddenly, Lydia perked up just a bit, which was also a deeply unsettling feeling, given that the whole root of her worry traced back to Beetlejuice himself. She had, quite literally, taken a nose dive off the deep end. "I'll only stay if you want me to, BJ. I don't want to be a bother to you, okay?" she countered, placing the responsibility of admittance upon the poltergeist once more.

"Look, I said I don't care! I want you to do whatever the hell you wanna do! I'm gettin' out soon, anyway, so I could give two fucks!" he raised his voice, seemingly growing more irate by the minute.

This was it. Something had to give, and unfortunately, Lydia was in a very dismal place in her afterlife, so she just said it. She knew he sure as hell wouldn't, and she had no place to go, and he, of all people, both living and dead, was her only friend available. So, she finally decided to give in.

"I want to stay with you, BJ." Lydia admitted, looking down at the floor for fear of his reaction. She was simply greeted with silence, which caused her to glance up at his face to see if he was ready to explode into another rage fit or something of that nature.

To her surprise, he was completely and utterly shocked. Beetle's mouth was slightly gaped, and his eyes were uncharacteristically softer than usual. "You do?"