Chapter 28: Last Resorts

"Okay then, BJ. I'll be back soon." Lydia nodded, before closing her eyes tightly and gradually fading into a puff of purple smoke.

Beetle could only stare in awe as Lydia Deetz, the proverbial Mother Teresa of the Neitherworld, left his filthy presence to go out and help him fulfill his fruitless endeavors. Just what the fuck was happening? It wasn't like he deserved it or anything. Hell, he'd been nothing but a complete prick to her since the whole scheme to scare the shit out of Eustus, or whatever his name was.

He sighed, wiping his grimy hand over his face as he contemplated all the weird shit that he couldn't seem to escape. Hell, it was so much easier when he was being a bastard to her. It was just more simple to convert his, dare he say , hurt feelings, into good, wholesome inebriated rage. And just when he was doing such a good job of being a dick, there came Lydia-motherfuckin'-Deetz, waltzin' right into his life again, making him not so angry anymore. That was some real shit, there.

He took another drag of his smoke, while making his way to the toilet, stopping by the sink to gaze at himself in the mirror. He glared at himself, looking at the dark rings around his eyes, the mold that had attached itself to his skin, and the grime that caked his undead form. "You sonofabtich..." he loathed, throwing his cigarette in the sink and putting it out in the fragments of water that remained therein. Man, he was a creep. A real creep. No wonder Lydia wouldn't want his filthy ass. She was just too good for him, plain and simple. Truthfully, he had sprung his feelings on her at the worst possible moment, and he knew that deep down. He realized he'd jumped the gun and she hadn't had time to react, let alone consider him while her asshole ex was right there in the picture. He knew he hadn't played fair when he decided to pretend to hate her guts. And it was all pretend. Truth was he loved her guts very, very much - in that gushy, make-you-vomit kinda way.

He grunted unhappily, before standing in front of the toilet and pulling the seat up, while pissing away the copious amounts of booze he'd consumed and mentally belittling himself in the process. He was lucky a sweet babe like that even considered a shitbag like himself to be her friend. At least that wouldn't change, he reasoned. If she'd put up with his ass that long, then they were pretty much friends for eternity, and that alone brought him a little comfort. He'd likely be out in the realm of the living soon anyway, since she was all hot and persuasive and would likely get Geraldo to follow through on the deal.

He finished, zipping his fly and stepping away, thinking about when he'd return - maybe in about fifty or sixty years, give or take. Maybe he'd hunt her up again and take her out for some drinks, or whatever.

Beetle stood at the bathroom entrance, gazing back to the toilet, with its seat raised full fast, high and proud like he'd always left it before Lydia stepped into his life. Ah, who was he kidding? He missed her ass already!

He growled, hating himself for being so hopelessly castrated by the very thoughts of her. He stomped back to the toilet and slammed the seat down, realizing this feeling wasn't going anywhere, no matter which realm he was in. "FUCK!"

"Aggh!" Gerald yelped, nearly falling into his bookshelf as Lydia haphazardly poofed into the room, falling face first into him.

"Gerald! I-I'm so sorry! I haven't gotten used to this whole magic powers thing yet..." she admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed as the helped steady the man she'd nearly knocked to the floor.

"Oh, Lydia! It's you! Heh...I thought it was that Beetle fellow again." he sighed, wiping his sweat-drenched features with a handkercheif. As Gerald walked over to pick up a book that he'd flung into the floor due to her arrival, she noticed that music boomed voraciously throughout the apartment, rattling objects and shaking the walls. She studied the man himself, noting that he appeared even more anxious and strained than before, his shirt nearly dripping with sweat.

"No, he's not here, but he can be if you need these party animals removed." she suggested politely, as she watched his face fill with dread.

"I-I'm not so sure I can do that, Lydia. I tried to consider it. Really, I did. I just don't know what that poltergeist is capable of. I don't know if my conscious will allow it. What if he murders someone? I mean, these girls disturb my peace, but they don't deserve an early grave." he explained, wiping at his soaken brow.

Oh shit, she was losing him, and fast. "Look, I understand where you are coming from, believe me! I do! It's just, that, well, you don't deserve this! Look at you! You're tired, anxious, and miserable. You need help. You don't need...well...this..." she gestured to the chaotic room, as a picture of Gerald himself conveniently fell to the floor, shattering due to the loud vibrations of the music. Lydia could feel herself panicking inside, watching his terrified gaze dart about the room, watching more of his beloved books fall to the floor. Truthfully, she not only wanted to help Beetlejuice, but Gerald himself. The poor fellow was a complete and utter mess at this point. Feeling deep sympathy for his unfortunate state, she placed a hand on his sweat-drenched shoulder. "Just how long has this been going on?"

He gazed at her, looking completely fed up and forlorn. "Days. Days and days. I've truly lost count..."

"Listen, I know my friend is a bit unorthodox...But, believe it or not, he's better at holding bargains than I am. He's a very...strategic...businessman. If he makes a deal, he will fulfill his end of it. Just trust me on this, Gerald. I really want to help you...both of you..." she admitted, hoping she'd convinced him. "So will you please call on him and end all of this. I promise that neither the girls or anyone else will be physically harmed in any way." she pleaded, as he averted his eyes, gazing at his bookshelf with much sorrow in his features.

She watched with baited breath as Gerald began to nod slowly. "Miss Lydia...I-I think you have a point. Whatever that lunatic plans to do, it can't possibly be any more insufferable than this. I-I'll do it."

Lydia smiled, breathing sigh of relief. "Thank you, Gerald. Thank you so much! Okay. Now, when you are ready...Say his name three times..." she instructed carefully, rubbing her gloved hands together tightly in anticipation. Finally, she could truly keep her word. Finally, she could help her dear, demented friend.

Beetle paced about hysterically, checking all six of his watches in anticipation. "C'mon, Babe...Let me know somethin'..." he groaned, feeling himself grow more tense by the minute. Maybe she was getting through to that chubby little poindexter. Or maybe it was taking so long because she wasn't.

Suddenly, Beetle stopped dead in his tracks, feeling a prickle in his icy skin and a slight whisper in his ear. Then he felt it again, but stronger. Did Lydia actually pull it off? Could this really be it? His one way ticket outta this hell hole?

Beetle grinned, rubbing his hands together, and chuckling to himself. "C'mon Lard-ball...Say it again! HAHAHA!"

And the third sensation came in the form of a yell, and a jolt of electricity through his veins, as he vanished into the realm of the living.