We arrived back at the Firehouse in high spirits. With the Ecto finally in, We got out. Venkman went to tell Janine how much the Sedgewick hotel owed us. Janine was not happy with Venkman. Partially because the paper was covered in slime and partially because of how much we charged compared to the amount she was paid. Spengler Stantz decided to put the ghost in the containment unit.
I figured with the way the night had been going. To be prepared for the inevitable disaster while also testing a theory I wanted to try since it could happen and one can never be too careful, especially with these mad scientists. I left the main door of the Firehouse slightly ajar, put the ghost trap in the gap, left the peddle as far as I could with the wire, and stood by it.
Sure enough, five minutes later, I heard a small explosion followed by the sound of yelling. A moment later, the Blob came upstairs, stopping by Spengler's locker, swallowing his Twinkies, and holding a weird metal tube. I was now behind the Ecto, waiting for the ghost to go past, and if my theory were correct, even though we were in an entirely closed space, it would go through the open door.
I was proven correct as the ghost beamed to the door, only to be shocked as I activated the trap sucking the spirit back in the trap as it tried to fly away, reaching for anything and throwing the cylinder object at me. Eventually, the trap closed and did the same as in the hotel, and the light came on. Spengler and Stantz came running up the stairs, putting their packs on to see me holding the trap.
"I thought this might happen. I've already caught it again. What the hell happened." I said annoyedly, "Also, what was this thing in your locker? It tried to throw it at me."
"Did we ever tell you you are our favorite student?" Stantz said.
"That device is a prototype of a Protonic Grenade, And we don't know what caused the containment to fail," Spengler said, adjusting his glasses.
"Why do you have this in your Locker?" I said, surprised since I was holding what could be a little boy in my hand.
"How long will it take to fix the containment unit?" I asked, setting the trap and the grenade on the Ecto's hood.
"Shouldn't take that long, maybe a few hours," Stantz said, picking the trap up.
"Good now," I grabbed both of their ears and brought them down to my level. "You're going to show me all the prototypes, and you are not to make anymore without my approval since I'm sick of having equipment that could kill me strapped to me and finding out afterward."
""Argh, Yes, Ma'am"" They both said in pain.
After that night, word spread quickly, and we got a few more calls daily. Some were nothing, others not. During this time, Janine started receiving calls about interviews and newspaper articles. We had even made the front cover. Luckily, the newspaper couldn't get a picture in time and just used a photo from the advert, meaning no one was aware that I was part of the group, and that led to the focus being mainly on the guys.
This suited me fine. I prefer to lead a quiet life, and the last thing I wanted was to become famous. I like the idea of being in the background cast compared to the main cast. The way the guys were getting noticed increasingly led to me completing any errands needed. Though we started getting more and more calls, it was still manageable.
After my day on campus, I came back to complete chaos. That Thursday was nothing but runs and filling out sheets comparing strategies and ways to improve what we were doing, charting P.K.E levels, and going to the library to gather information on Zuul to find more details for our client, Dana Barret. In times like this, I miss Google from my first life.
On top of reorganizing everything and helping Janine where I could since we were swamped suddenly, rest was becoming increasingly sparse. Luckily, unlike in my previous life, good coffee was aplenty. The stress was getting to the guys. I am setting up the form for Spengler and Stantz to build new technology so I don't accidentally hold a grenade that needs "work."
I already turned the lab area to be the only place for prototypes beside behind the Firehouse instead of a locker or by the door. That is a lawsuit waiting to happen. Not only that, but some city violations. While learning more about the containment unit, I was told it was just as it was named, meaning it was entirely temporary.
It did not send the ghosts back to wherever they originated from. Asking more questions made me realize how relaxed they are with possibilities. I, on the other hand, am less so, so I told them to find a location to permanently house ghosts so if a situation happens, knowing the New York power grid system is not the best. I am so glad I caught this when I did.
This could have been an environmental violation, and the fewer government questions, the better for us. These guys are way too relaxed, tired, stressed, and overworked. I know something will go wrong, whether because of us or because we attempt to stop something, and the more precautions we take, the more complicated any case against us is.
We don't need to win the cases to outlast the individuals who might attempt to sue us, but anything bigger than individuals will ruin us. The current location idea is somewhere west of the Mississippi River to lower the chance of outside interference and lack of populace cities. On top of the prototype form, I am helping Spengler map out all locations of hauntings to see if some areas have higher hauntings than others and to allow us to sell protection plans.
"I'm surprised there aren't more in the Hell's Kitchen area," Venkman chuckled.
"The correlation of name does not always equal to reality. There are other reasons why it is called that," Spengler said in his usual monotone voice.
"Then why do you think that no one from Wall Street has called?" Venkman said, throwing popcorn in the air in an arc into his mouth like a five-year-old.
"Because if we went there, they couldn't get business done with no demons to sell their souls to," I said, not looking up from my work.
"HA ha, he he he - argh help …" Venkman said as he fell back in his chair. He was dangerously leaning on. After falling, the popcorn landed in his mouth. "Caught it still."
"How do you have a PhD?" I asked.
"Many wonder that question, mostly the Faculty Thesis committee," Venkamn said, fixing his chair and continuing his little trick.
Just then, the alarm sounded. In the distance, I could hear Stantz awaken from the bedroom area.
"God Dammit, I just fell asleep!" Stantz groaned.
Stantz stumbles in with a bit of a thousand-yard stare that I'd seen all over the Rhine. He zips up his flight suit again, looking dead tired, while Venkman gets up and hands Stantz a cup of coffee that he proceeds to down despite it being a fresh pot. After a moment, he shakes his head and returns to his excited personality. On the other hand, I proceeded to lock up the cabinet with all the current prototypes so that the Firehouse remained intact when we returned.
Spengler needs to stay here to finish processing the data that has currently been gathered on the busts. This means we needed to ensure he got it done; otherwise, he might have an idea to start tinkering. I prefer that Stantz is near since he will stop Spengler from blowing up.
"Alright, I wonder what the specter is this time. Maybe a class 3, but more likely a class 2. Those are fairly common." Stantz said as he slid down the pole.
"How does caffeine work that quick for him," Venkman said as he descended the pole.
"Wish it worked that quick for me," I said, pocketing the key and going down the pole.
After getting down the pole, I saw Venkman talking to Janine while Stantz had started checks on Ecto. I went over to help open the doors. After we opened the doors, Venkman picked up his step to help, just about throwing me in the Ecto.
"What the urgency, Peter? You're never in a rush," Stantz said.
"The customer is Tai Hong Lau's Chinese restaurant," Vennkman exclaimed as he pressed on the gas, launching Ecto out of the Firehouse.
"Okay, so why do we need to be in a rush?" Stantz asked.
"We are not just rushing; we will give them a good deal. The best damn deal we can," Venkman said, making a sharp turn.
"But why the food was okay and came on time?" I asked.
"Because if we are fast and give a good deal, one of the closest restaurants will give us good deals for late-night jobs, and you never piss off old Chinese men; I made that mistake in the circus," Venkman said, pulling up to the restaurant.
"You were in the circus. You gotta tell me about that. Did you do trapeze?" I asked, pointing fun at this situation since this is the first I've heard about Venkman's life before academia.
"As soon as you tell us your story," Venkman said in retort.
"Touche."
We got out, put our packs on, and got ready to go upstairs and inside the restaurant. Inside was what is typically expected inside a Chinese restaurant. An old sign with barely legible words, not the best health and safety inspection, and a young girl working the register. When the girl saw us, she turned around.
"爸爸，捉鬼敢死队来了。" She said, making me wish it was a Japanese restaurant. I haven't been able to speak Japanese in years, though at this point, I'm out of practice, and my current mouth can't pronounce the words. I did practice writing, but it is hard to practice speaking correctly, leading to losing a part of who I was initially. At least, that's how I felt. As I thought this, an old Chinese man walked out to the front.
"Ah, Ghostbusters perfect, come here." The man said, motioning us over to him.
"What is the issue, Mr. Lau?" Venkman asked.
"It seems too fresh it bad it caused a weird creature to ruin my kitchen. Go fix it," Lau said with a thick accent.
"No problem, we'll get it taken care of as quickly as we can, but we suggest that you and your family go upstairs and let us know if it goes up there," Venkman said reassuringly.
"Don't take long. This is our busy time," Lau said before speaking to his family to go upstairs.
After they left, we went into the kitchen as expected. The kitchen seemed empty, but something was amiss. It was a relatively small kitchen, with most of the space being filled by a small roll table and a tray-staking shelf, while other parts of the back consisted of a few old fridges and cooking stations. The floor was slippery, causing a few slips as we scanned the kitchen.
"So, any ideas on how to catch something in a space this small?" I asked.
While I was used to the strategy of urban conflict from the way Venkman was reacting to this particular case, the emphasis was not on damaging the restaurant, which had not been a priority in previous busts. Hence, the ideas of urban combat were useless since the importance was successfully capturing and not destroying the place.
This was ridiculous since, in my previous life, when the empire attempted to retake lands and lost, the decision to bomb a building was never debated as long as there were combatants. Even civilians had been expendable if a high enough target was present.
This is not a warzone, though the rules are different here. While the acceptance of services allows for the dismissal of any attempts to sue us in the event of damages, I made sure that Janine told customers this before confirming services and that it was a part of our newspaper ad campaign.
When USA Today wrote a story on our new business after the success of the Sedgwick Hotel, the acceptance that any damages experienced to capture a ghost is the fault of the owner and/or the one who seeks the services provided. I went over the contract made up for all customers and even had it looked over by my pre-law professor and other lawyers at the university, along with students and everyone I could, to make it as airtight as possible.
Hence, there is no real reason to be so cautious, but as much as I have helped, I was registered as an employee. I am not a founder and still have to follow child labor laws. Technically, I should not have been on the bus at the hotel, but this was the closest group I could consider friends. Hobbies are hard to discover, especially when you've tried almost everything.
Now, the others will listen to my input since I am considered a reasonable voice, and the amount that they let me set boundaries shows they need direction. However, they could easily override me if they wanted to go in a particular direction. My opinions are only good if they listen. I can do no more in this company. So, because Venkman wants this to be a clean job, I have no choice but to listen.
"Well, for a starter, we need to make some room. I can barely walk around here," Stantz said before moving things around to clear the room.
After clearing the room, we continued to search with little results. Something was there but not concentrated. We even spread our search to the remainder of the restaurant with no results.
"Why can't you find this ghost," Venkan said in frustration.
"If I'm not mistaken, this is a possible animal spirit. Maybe it only responds to things that remind it of its demise," I asked.
"Why, I believe that is correct, Tanya, gold star to you. Peter, let's cook a meal or pretend to and see if that works." Stantz said, filling me with pride.
Venkman and Stantz put their packs down and started prep cooking. Well, Stantz, at least Venkman, on the other hand, got pots and pans together and started drumming and slamming the oven doors. Stantz remembered a recipe his mother used to make, going through the motions and ordering, measuring imaginary food, and turning the stove on.
After a while, Venkman joined in, pretending to take orders and pretending to hit on an imaginary customer. I heard some bad pickup lines, but yikes. While they guys were playing pretend, I was scanning for any movements or changes. Sure enough, a Duck emerged after opening an oven to take out an imaginary souffle. It scared Stantz briefly, causing him to roll onto his back. The duck then started to waddle towards Stantz before standing on his chest. The duck was, well, a duck with a blue see-through tint.
"Quack," it Quacked.
"This is incredible. It has no weight, yet I can feel it on my chest." Stantz said, looking back and forth between me and the duck.
"Should I blast it?" I asked, turning my Pack on.
"No! I can't imagine it being good for me, but it would be interesting to see what it does to Human flesh. I would prefer not for it to happen to me, and from our observation, it is not exactly the most accurate device." Stantz said.
"Quack," it quacked again.
"Well, we got to do something," I responded.
"Throw the trap out, and when I scare it, I'll run towards you, so when it chases me, it'll run straight into it," Stantz said calmly.
"QUACK!" the duck quacked as its eyes turned red while it flapped its wings aggressively, taking to the air and allowing Stantz to move away.
Suddenly, a goose, a pig, and some frogs exited the oven. Instinctually, I and Stantz ran into the dining room, where Venkman saw us running with a confused look. We ducked behind a table, looking behind, only to realize that only the geese were following us. Then, I realized I was the only one with my Pack since Venkman and Stantz left theirs in a kitchen.
I now have a new rule to add to the ongoing list of what to do in the field. The other issue was that the goose had the trap. If I blasted it, it could damage the trap and blow up, or who knows what? I got up and walked towards it since I figured it was a goose and a ghost. How difficult could it be? As I walked towards it, the goose hissed, but I just grabbed the damn thing out of its beak.
It bit me and started flapping its wings, hissing in an attempt to bite me again. I threw the trap to Venkman and ran around the table as it chased me, giving Stantz and Venkman to set it. I jumped over it, allowing them to activate the trap and capture the goose.
"Alright, one down, like nine to go. How do we trap them without possibly hurting the packs?" I asked.
"How about a roll," Venkman said, grabbing one of the rolls he grabbed to play pretend.
Sure enough, we scattered crumbs on the top of the trap along with some roaches to attract the frogs. We gathered around the door to the kitchen and slid the trap in.
"This is so dumb. There is no way this is going to work." I said, looking at Venkman.
"Just trust the process. Animals love bread even when they shouldn't eat it. Venkman said then shushing me.
After a few minutes, the animals gathered around the trap. A frog tried to eat a Roach, but the roach fell straight through the frog and scampered away. Then, as the duck finally got close, Stantz pressed the peddle with his hand, activating the trap and causing a blinding light that was worse due to all the metal in the kitchen, but when the trap closed, it was done.
They were in, and the readings confirmed it. Mr. Lau came down, glad we didn't destroy anything, and after a quick negotiation, as we were leaving, the New York Post seemed to see the car and offered to pay for a meal as long as they got an interview. Not one to turn down a free meal, we sat and ate, answering questions and explaining the current bust.
After a great meal, the Post paid and left while we finished. Mr. Lau, in appreciation, gave Stantz and me Chinese hats to wear. Then, as we were packing up, he came out with two roasted birds for us. We bowed, thanked, and returned to the Firehouse, ready for the next job.