Hogarth pulled Ecto-1SF in front of Chef Guido's. The Ghostbusters climbed out, pulled on their proton packs, and walked up to the man standing in front of the main entrance. His tuxedo and gold-colored name tag indicated he was an employee at the restaurant.
"You must be the Ghostbusters," he said. "Please follow me."
He led them inside the restaurant. Tables covered in white cloth, surrounded by red velvet seats, filled the room, making it appear smaller than it actually was. Replicas of the paintings from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel lined the ceiling of the room itself. Italian architecture from the days of the Renaissance could be seen carved into the walls themselves.
"Nice joint you got here," Hogarth said.
"Thank you," replied the man. "Chef Guido demands nothing less than the classic style of his home country."
"So you're not Chef Guido?" Constance asked.
"No," the man answered. "I'm Leonard Skinner, one of the head waiters at this establishment. The name tag should have hinted at that."
"We weren't paying attention," Jefferson explained. "Would you mind telling us more about this ghost?"
"Ever since Chef Guido opened his restaurant here, we've experienced unusual occurrences," Skinner stated. "Employees have come in the mornings to find food in the pantry has been partially consumed by rats, only to find no evidence of infestation. Guido himself has occasionally heard low but audible rants while in his office, as well as French singing.
"However, after that Morgana character appeared a few weeks ago, the problem has gotten much worse. An angry chef, along with a horde of ghastly rats, has been appearing almost every evening during the restaurant's busiest hours, causing mass destruction in the kitchen and prompting cooks to flee for their lives. If something is not done soon, we will have to close our doors for good."
Gordon turned to Constance.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"Has the ghost manifested anywhere else besides the kitchen?" she asked Skinner.
"No, that is the only place it has appeared."
"Then I'd say we're dealing with a Class IV focused manifestation. This ghost is none other than the spirit of Chef Bassett."
"I don't understand," Hogarth said. "Why would Chef Bassett's ghost be haunting the place? Wouldn't he still be alive?"
"No, Hogarth," Jefferson told him. "When Chef Bassett's restaurant went down in flames, he went down with it. According to police reports, a horde of rats infested the kitchen of Bassett's restaurant when they were attracted by the smell of cheese. The local health inspector closed down the restaurant after he was informed of the incident, but Bassett refused to believe it. He ventured into the kitchen, where he met his end with a horde of starving rats."
"That's disgusting," Hogarth said, grimacing. "Don't ever tell that to kids."
"It's not like it's been written into kids' fairy tales already, Hogarth," Jefferson said. "The Big Bad Wolf ate Little Red Riding Hood, remember?"
"That was a wolf," Hogarth pointed out. "We're talking about rats."
Constance slowly pushed open the doors that connected the dining room to the kitchen. Pots, pans, and various cooking utensils cluttered the countertops and stoves in the darkness. Gordon tried to flip on the light switch, but the lights remained off. The silence was near deafening as the Ghostbusters slowly moved through the kitchen.
At that moment, Hogarth heard a sound echoing around him. As he stopped to listen, the sound became louder, and he recognized it as a man singing. The looks he saw on the other Ghostbusters' faces told him they could hear it, too.
"What is that?" he asked.
Constance listened for another second before answering: "It's 'Parlez-Moi d'Amour', an old French song originally performed by Lucienne Boyer in 1930. Chef Bassett used to sing it while he was cooking."
"What's he gonna sing next? 'Be Our Guest'?" Hogarth asked.
"LOOK OUT!" Jefferson shouted, before he dove at Hogarth. They both hit the floor as a large butcher knife flew over their heads and stuck itself into the nearby wall.
After helping Hogarth up, Jefferson pulled out his PKE Meter. The readings were driving the light bar into the top, which could only mean that a powerful entity was present. Cooking utensils began to tremble as the Ghostbusters heard an angry roar sounding around the kitchen.
As the roar faded, it was replaced by the sound of something banging on metal. Gordon turned and saw the door to the pantry abruptly lurch repeatedly as if something was pounding on it from the other side. Gordon stepped over, and with his neutrona wand in one hand, reached for the door with the other.
"Gordon, wait!" Constance cried, but her warning came too late. Gordon pulled open the door and was met with a crashing wave of squealing rats. He barely had time to leap out of the way and climb up onto the nearest countertop as the rats flooded the kitchen. The others did the same, with Hogarth and Jefferson hauling Skinner up with them.
Holding out his PKE Meter over the rat flood, Jefferson saw that the rats were giving off significant readings. He looked down and saw that all of them had glowing green eyes.
"These aren't actual rats," he said. "They're just ghost rats."
"And how is that supposed to make things better?" Hogarth asked irritably.
"It means we can blast them," Jefferson said. But as if he read Hogarth's mind, he added, "But it won't do much good. Given how many there are, it's a good chance they'll keep coming even if we shoot them with our proton streams. Our best chance is to contain the controlling entity, and these rat ghosts will disperse."
As if on cue, from the pantry burst a large ghost. He was fat and dressed like a chef. The toque hat he wore was crooked, and his face was as ugly as a zombie. He held a butcher knife in one hand, and a red-and-white checkered apron was wrapped around his waist. Looking at the Ghostbusters and Skinner, he let out a roar of anger, to which they replied by firing their proton streams at him. With a sudden burst of speed, he flew right past them and out the kitchen doors, the rats scurrying after him.
"I never knew Chef Bassett had such a nasty temper," Hogarth said as he and the others climbed down.
"When Bassett's ghost manifested and found a successful restaurant where his once was, it must have made him mad with jealousy," Constance said. "It's no wonder he's been driving out your workers."
"But it was nothing personal!" Skinner cried.
"We know it wasn't," Gordon told him. "But it doesn't matter to ghosts. Seeing what they did not have in life only fuels their negative Mana."
The Ghostbusters left the kitchen and returned to the dining room. It was empty, with no visible sign of Bassett's ghost. Jefferson held out his PKE Meter again and waved it from side to side. As it was midway from center and far right, the arms of the Meter began to rise and the light bar rose towards the top of the screen. Jefferson silently pointed in the direction of the hidden entity and the Ghostbusters quietly crept forward.
Grinning, Hogarth pointed his neutrona wand at the shaking table, but the end result was not what he wanted: With a roar, Bassett burst from the table, knocking Hogarth over. The other Ghostbusters fired their proton streams at Bassett as he flew through the air. Constance's stream managed to hit him in the rear end. With a cry, Bassett fell out of air, spinning towards the ground like a crashing biplane, and collided with several tables.
The Ghostbusters rushed over to where he landed. Moments later, Bassett burst from the pile of wrecked tables and shot into the air, but Constance, Hogarth, and Gordon quickly ensnared him with their capture streams. Bassett howled as he fought to free himself from the capture streams, but he was fighting a battle he could not hope to win.
Jefferson dropped his trap on the ground and kicked it out underneath Bassett as the ghost struggled against the capture streams. With a swift stomp, Jefferson struck the trap pedal with the heel of his foot, opening the trap.
It was over for Bassett. The trap quickly sucked him in as he continued to fight against its pull, and it snapped shut seconds later. Stepping forward, Jefferson reached down and picked up the trap.
"Hard to believe this guy was ever a pleasant host," Hogarth said.
"A run of bad luck can do that to a man," Jefferson replied. "Some feel the effects more than others."