NOTE: and I ended up living there!

My last day in Rodneytown has finally arrived. I ran out of postcards, my recording contract expired, and I started to bid farewell to the apartment as prepared it for the new lease.

At the Texican Grill, the news spread.
"You're leaving?" asked PaRappa.
"Yeah, unfortunately, " I said, "After all those strange incidents that have happened. I think the other night when Rammy saw me naked was what did the trick."
"So where are you moving to?" asked Teriyaki Yoko.
"Upstate to Amity Park," I said, biting a corn chip, "It's supposed to be nice up there."
"Isn't that place supposed to be inhabited by ghosts?" asked the shy Lammy.
"That's all made-up mushy mush. Anyway, it's a couple miles north of Hollywood, and they have a recording studio! This could be my big break, and I could work on 'Tommy' a bit more."
"I understand your confidence," said Lammy, shaking my hand, "Good luck!"

At around noon, the movers came to get my stuff. I shook all my friends' hands (and paws) as they bid me farewell. I remembered to take my guitar, my PlayStation, my bed, and the tapes from my "Tommy" sessions, including "Pinball Wizard".

As before, I sat in my bed in the back of the truck and watch the trees and beaches drift by on Highway 1. We turned onto the sunset strip, then over to Vine street, and took that the rest of the way.
By the time we reached Amity Park, I thought to myself this is what I could call home. The truck went up a couple of more blocks, and up to the building labeled "Fenton Works"... Wait a minute. Why does that look so familiar?

I got the house next door. No elevator, so that meant no Charles, thank goodness. I stepped out of the back and helped with the stuff. The town was windy, and I felt what seemed a quick gust. I looked in the direction it went. It appeared to be a ghost. Lammy must've been right.
The truckers gave me a map of the town and left afterwards. I went inside. There were two floors. The bedroom was upstairs. Everything else was downstairs. I sat down to strum my guitar and practice some songs from "Tommy". Boy, was I so bored.

I decided to get another batch of postcards for my stay. I went to the pharmacy two blocks down, and picked up about three or four. No teens asking for fries were lurking about, so I felt kinda safe. I paid for my postcards and left. Then I felt another gust of wind, and it turned out to be caused by the same ghost I saw earlier. I dismissed it, and head back to the new pad.

I was still bored. I was alone with a pesky fly. Time to have some fun, I thought. I took a small glass and piece of brass (don't ask where I got it from), captured the fly, and took it to the door. As I opened it, I felt the gust again and saw a teen standing there about to knock.

"WOW!" I squealed.
In unison, we said "You look strikingly familiar!"
The kid held up a CD. It was my album!
He said "You're that new guy from Greenwich Village that everyone's talking about! I'm Danny."
Man, was he quick with first impressions! Then I put two and two together
"I'm the guy," I said, "Haven't I seen you somewhere before, like...the moving truck, or... the pharmacy?"
Danny was SO busted.
"I confess," he said, "I'm the ghost."

Then FLASH! His hair turned white, and changed to wearing a black jumpsuit, and floated up and down.
"Okay, I get the point," I said, "But at least I have a fan. What're you here for, anyway? Greeting the neighbors?"
"Yeah," said Danny, "Listen, my parents don't know anything about me being a ghost, so I'm pretty uncomfortable about being here. How about we meet somewhere for a bite to eat?"
"Sounds good."

Then FLASH, he was back to himself.
"Nice knowin' ya!" he said, and left.
Remembering I still had the fly in my hand, I set it free, and slammed the door so it wouldn't escape back inside. I sat down and studied the map for the hotspots. There was a Chipotle (an excellent Tex-Mex chain, compared to Taco Bell), a recording studio called Moon Records, no park (ironically) and a music store.

There were no teleportation machines in sight, so I hailed down a cab. I'm too cheap to afford a car. I rode the cab to the recording studio, head inside, and to the front desk. The receptionist was slightly younger than the one back at Pet Records. Speaking of which, when I was kicked out of Pet, they gave me a note for other labels, stating that I can continue my music career on the new label.

I gave the note to the secretary. She skimmed it, then gave it back.
"I think we have a spor for you here on Moon, Mr. Fay," she said.
"Thank you," I answered, "Are there any artists here that I should get to know here?"
"None in particular."
"Woah! That's the same band I was thinking of!"
"Have fun!"

I head up the stairs to my recording booth. The producer was a guy named Graham Cracker, and seemed like a nice guy. I showed him the note, sat down with guitar in hand, and he sat down at the tape recorder.
"So, this note says you're from Greenwich Village, and you're doing a 'Tommy' project with various bands."
"Yep. Did some of them over at Pet."
"Well, let's here a bit of your resume."
Graham pressed the RECORD button and I played "A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall". After seven minutes of music, he stopped the tape.
"That was great. You're in."

That night at the Chipotle, I was at a booth with Danny and a goth girl.
"Congratulations on the record label, buddy!" said Danny.
"Thanks, D. So who's your friend?"
"Oh, this is Sam. She's vegetarian goth, and we're not dating."
"Yet" said Sam.
"Thank goodness," I said, "I had a bit of trouble with a goth someone back in Rodneytown."
Then Danny added "I have another friend named Tucker, but he's outta town for the moment."
"Sorry to hear that. How did you end up as a ghost in the first place?"
"Well, my parents study ghosts. They capture them and banish them and stuff like that. They're obsessed. Anyway, they did this thing which was supposed to lead to the ghost world, and when they plugged it in, it didn't work. They left, and I went in there and noticed the ON switch was set to OFF. So I pressed ON, and FLASH! Ectoplasm fused to my DNA and I was granted with ghost powers."
"And your parents don't know a thing?" I asked, "What are you, chicken?"
"They're ghost hunters, man! If they find out, who knows what's gonna happen to me! Maybe they'll kill me or dissect me or something."
"Believe me," I conforted, "If I strange powers, say like the ability to fly, I'd let my folks know ASAP...unless they don't care for that kind of stuff."
"Thanks," said Danny, "That's good advice."

A taxicab pulled up, and out stepped a girl with a haircut similar to Danny's. I was about to ask who she was, but before I could speak, Danny stood up to call her over.
"Hey, Dani! Over here!"
She got the spot next to Sam, and faced me.
"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"
"On an album cover, maybe. I'm the Village Boy."
She smiled and shook my hand. It was lightweight and nearly hollow.
"Danny, is she a ghost too?" I said, sipping my margarita.
"She's my girl clone," he said.
I spit my drink back into the glass. A GIRL CLONE?
"A bad guy did that to attack me, but we're cool now," he explained

LET US NEVER BRING THIS UP AGAIN!

After re-sipping the margarita, Danny spoke up.
"I understand you're trying to recreate the whole 'Tommy' rock opera."
"Yeah. I have a couple of songs completed back at the old studio. I plan to do some more if I get new accompanists," I said.
"I think we can work on this with you," said Sam, "That is, If we know what Tommy was about."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," I said, and we dismissed ourselves to the front door.

While waiting for a cab, I stood by Danny.
"Are you gonna fly home and confess to your Mom that all this time you could turn into a ghost and all that jazz?" I suggested.
"After much consideration, I'll give it a shot."

So he turned into a ghost and flew home. Dani followed. I was left with Sam. We ended up; riding in two separate cabs.

At home, I pulled out a clean postcard and wrote to Lammy.

Lammy,
I underestimated Amity Park. There are ghosts here, and Elvis is said to be on the Moon record label. But that's okay. I've made friends with two of them. We might get together and work on "Tommy". If you come by, drop in.
Thomas Fay

I put in the mailbox by the door, and went upstairs to hit the sack. This ends my first day at Amity Park.