"So…they're called Ghostbusters because they…bust ghosts?" asked Crane in reality, breaking in on the story.
"Yeah, like a drug bust," said Joker, nodding. "They find 'em and take 'em down."
"But you can't use 'bust' in that context as a verb," retorted Crane. "A 'bust' is a noun in 'drug bust.'"
"You can use 'bust' as a verb when you bust people out of someplace, like Arkham," pointed out Tetch.
"Yes, but only when it's paired with 'out,'" retorted Crane. "Making it a phrasal verb, which cannot be used on its own."
"You can go bust," pointed out Nygma. "Like a business going bankrupt would be said to go bust."
"Yes, but that's an adjective, not a verb," retorted Crane. "'Buster' has been used as a slang term for a way of disrespectfully addressing someone, but again, not as someone who busts, because the word isn't a verb. Therefore the word and concept of a Ghostbuster is essentially meaningless."
"Good, I'm glad we brought grammar into this," said Joker, sarcastically. "It really adds to the narrative. There's nothing anyone loves more than a grammar Nazi. Except me, since I hate all forms of Nazis."
"I just don't think my character would agree to work in a business with a grammatically incorrect name," said Crane. "That would be very out of character."
"Well, imagine you're less of a pompous jerk in this story," retorted Joker. "It's difficult, I know, but try."
"I honestly don't buy that you'd work with these three for very long, Mr. J," commented Harley. "I think you'd be trying to kill each other before the first day was over."
"Well, you have to suspend your disbelief a little in this story about ghosts," retorted Joker.
"I still don't see what any of this has got to do with Batman," said Tetch.
"Will you just wait and see?" snapped Joker. "Honestly, I'm trying to introduce these characters slowly and build up the tension…"
"But we know these characters already because we are these characters," pointed out Tetch.
"And there's been zero tension thus far," agreed Nygma. "Just your ridiculous brand of so-called humor."
"I dunno – I've got a lotta sexual tension thinking of Dr. J," purred Harley, cuddling closer to Joker. "I want him to give me a really thorough full body examination."
"Maybe later," agreed Joker. "For now, I guess we'll pick up the pace. Well, the Ghostbusting business idea was naturally a great one, as it came from Dr. Joker, and soon the calls started pouring in. While the team saw a great many number of weirdos, freaks, and paranoid delusionals, they didn't actually encounter any ghosts. Until one day…"
"Morning, boys!" exclaimed Dr. Joker, sliding down the fireman's pole into the laboratory. "Eddie, how's the machine today?"
"Still broken," muttered Dr. Nygma. "But at least you have your fireman's pole, so it was all worth it," he added, sarcastically.
"I agree," said Dr. Joker, nodding as he slapped him on the back and shocked him with the joy buzzer.
"Can you not do that?! You'll overload the circuits and then I'll have to start all over again!" Dr. Nygma snapped.
"Oh, lighten up, Eddie," sighed Dr. Joker, heading over to the coffee pot. "We're outta coffee," he commented.
"So make some more – you're the only one who drinks that filth," retorted Dr. Crane, not looking up from his book.
"If I drank hot water with dirt in it, I wouldn't point fingers," retorted Dr. Joker.
"Tea is made from leaves," corrected Dr. Tetch, scribbling some more calculations down. "It's hardly dirt, and it contains many proven health benefits, such as antioxidants…"
"Yeah, I'm gonna go open up," interrupted Dr. Joker, heading into the next room and unlocking the front door, and then turning on all the lights. He then took a seat at the reception desk, adjusted his nameplate which read Dr. Joker – President, and then propped his feet up on the desk and pulled out a magazine.
A few minutes later, he heard the bell over the door ring and looked up. "Welcome to the Ghostbusters, may I help…" he began, but then he stopped speaking as his jaw dropped in astonishment.
The woman who had walked in was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with big, blue eyes framed by thick, round glasses, and blonde hair done up in a tight bun. She was small and slim and pale, and her pretty face was haggard and worried, which did nothing to minimize her beauty.
"Um…hello," she stammered. "I…um…probably shouldn't even be here…I mean…I don't really believe in this nonsense…"
"That's ok, neither do I," said Dr. Joker, nodding. "Won't you please have a seat, Miss…?"
"It's…Dr. Harleen Quinzel, actually," replied the woman.
"Oh great, another doctor!" exclaimed Dr. Joker, beaming at her. "We definitely didn't have your type at my school, Doc, unfortunately!" he chuckled. "Might have actually stayed in school long enough to get my doctorate if that had been the case!"
She just looked at him. "That was…a joke," said Dr. Joker, slowly. "That's kinda my thing…never mind."
"No, I'm sorry for not getting it," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I…I don't really feel like myself…I haven't for days…the lack of sleep and everything is just…really getting to me."
"Why don't you tell me what the problem is, and I'll see if I can help?" he asked. "You think you're being haunted, right?"
"I…I guess…I don't know," she stammered. "I'm a rational woman, and I don't believe in this stuff, but I can't disbelieve it when I see it with my own eyes…"
She took a deep breath. "I'll…start from the beginning," she said. "But…you're gonna think I'm crazy."
"If I do, it'll only be a compliment," said Dr. Joker, grinning.
"I…came home from work yesterday, after stopping at the grocery store," said Dr. Quinzel. "I had picked up some vegetables, and while I was putting the other groceries away in the cupboard, the vegetables suddenly started…moving across the counter."
"Moving vegetables, huh?" asked Dr. Joker. "That's weird, but I'm not sure it's particularly ghostly…"
"I thought my eyes were just playing tricks on me after a long day at work," said Dr. Quinzel, nodding. "And when I reached out to grab them, they stopped moving. So I opened the fridge to put them in the vegetable crisper, and…"
She shut her eyes. "There was…this portal in my fridge. Like a gateway to…some horrible place, like an abandoned or post-apocalyptic world, buildings all overgrown and destroyed, decaying bodies everywhere. And then this awful voice said something…a phrase or…maybe a name. I don't really remember it – I was pretty shaken up, as you can imagine, but it sounded kinda like Latin."
"Latin, eh?" said Dr. Joker, thoughtfully. "Well, I dunno why a fridge would be speaking Latin, but my colleagues might."
"So…you don't think I'm crazy?" she asked.
"Believe me, toots, we've had crazy in here," said Dr. Joker. "We had this guy with a tinfoil hat saying that ghosts were stealing his thoughts to sell to the government, and we had this woman who claimed that a ghost had seduced her over a pottery wheel. Your story's actually one of the more rational ones – moving vegetables and a talking fridge seem almost normal by comparison."
"But you believe me, right?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I just…know how crazy it sounds, and I need the reassurance that I'm not going out of my mind. I'm a psychiatrist, you see, and the fact that I can't tell if I'm insane or not is very worrying."
"Well, if it's any consolation, I know crazy, and I don't think you're it," he replied, smiling at her. "Which is unfortunate, if you ask me. Crazy people usually have more fun. You know, fewer inhibitions, more spontaneous and carefree, no pesky sense of conscience…not that I speak from experience," he added, hastily.
"Well…thank you," she stammered. "It's…nice to be believed. I was afraid if I told anyone, they would just laugh at me."
"I would never laugh at you, toots," said Dr. Joker. "Unless you said something funny, of course, or tripped or something. I mean, I'm only human – who doesn't laugh when somebody trips?"
"You…are a doctor, right?" asked Dr. Quinzel, slowly.
"Of course I am – I have a plaque," said Dr. Joker, gesturing to it.
"You just…don't seem like one to me," said Dr. Quinzel.
"You should meet my colleagues – they'll seem like it," said Dr. Joker. "I guess you could call me a breath of fresh air compared to them. I'm the funny one. Also the smart and handsome one, as you can probably tell."
"Uh…sure," said Dr. Quinzel, slowly. "Anyway, if you think one of your colleagues can help me, can I please speak to them?"
"I dunno – they're awfully busy," replied Dr. Joker. "Doing…y'know…science."
"Joker, where did you put my book on the astral plane?" demanded Dr. Crane, storming into the room. "I know you've hidden it – no one else would think that was funny…"
He trailed off when he noticed Dr. Quinzel, and stared at her with the same open-mouthed, astonished look Dr. Joker had had on his face. "Who…is this?" he stammered.
"This is Dr. Quinzel – she's come to us after having experienced moving vegetables and a refrigerator talking in Latin," replied Dr. Joker.
"Really? That sounds absolutely fascinating," said Dr. Crane, taking a seat next to her. "Can you remember any of the words, or even syllables? Latin is a root language, so many of our words come from it that we might be able to figure out the meaning."
"I really don't remember – I was so shocked that I just slammed the door and ran out of the apartment," replied Dr. Quinzel. "I haven't been back – I stayed in a hotel last night, and I came to see you this morning."
"Doncha have any friends you could have stayed with?" asked Dr. Joker, casually. "Boyfriend, maybe?"
"I only moved here recently, and I don't have a boyfriend," replied Dr. Quinzel.
"Good, good," said Dr. Joker, nodding. "Good...for you to think to stay in a hotel, I mean," he added, noticing the looks he was getting from both Dr. Crane and Dr. Quinzel. "Much better than just wandering the streets."
"Are you sure you don't remember any sounds the refrigerator made?" asked Dr. Crane. "Anything at all?"
Dr. Quinzel furrowed her brow. "Well…it kinda sounded like it said…'toxic bender radical' or something?"
"Toxic bender radical," repeated Dr. Crane, thoughtfully. "Interesting."
"Is that Latin?" asked Dr. Joker.
"It's not a Latin phrase I've ever heard, but it does remind me of something I've read somewhere," murmured Dr. Crane. "If I could only remember which book…"
"Why doncha just Google it?" asked Dr. Joker.
"Because it's the 80s," retorted Dr. Crane. "I need an actual physical book to look up something like that."
"Right, right, we're still in the dark ages," muttered Dr. Joker.
"Why don't you follow me into the laboratory and meet the rest of the team, Dr. Quinzel, and tell your story to them?" asked Dr. Crane. "I can assure you, I'm very interested in your case, and I know they will be too."
They were. After Dr. Quinzel repeated her story, Dr. Tetch spoke up. "With your permission, Dr. Quinzel, we'd like to visit your apartment and scan for any signs of paranormal activity."
"Of course," said Dr. Quinzel, nodding.
"I'll go," spoke up Dr. Joker.
They stared at him. "But you don't know how to use the machines," said Dr. Tetch.
"Hey, I'll figure it out – how hard can it be?" asked Dr. Joker. "I just know Dr. Quinzel needs to be thoroughly checked out at her apartment…I mean, Dr. Quinzel's apartment needs to be thoroughly checked out," he corrected, hastily.
"We'll all go," said Dr. Crane, glaring at him.
"Not you, Jonathan - you should stay here and go through your books to find out what that phrase means," said Dr. Tetch. "Edward and I will accompany Dr. Joker to Dr. Quinzel's apartment."
"Well, four's kinda a crowd…" began Dr. Joker.
"I'll get a cab," said Dr. Tetch. "Get the equipment together, Edward."
Dr. Quinzel headed outside to wait for the cab, and Dr. Crane seized Dr. Joker's arm as he was about to follow her. "You keep your hands off her," he growled.
"Who's gonna make me, nerd?" demanded Dr. Joker. "You? Anyway, I saw her first."
"So? I think she seemed more interested in me," retorted Dr. Crane. "And at least I'm doing something to help her, which is more than you can do."
"We'll have to see about that, won't we?" asked Dr. Joker.
"Yes, we will," retorted Dr. Crane. "May the best man win."