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Of Spirits, Specters, Sex, And Satan
"Yes, I am an agent of the demonic entity known as Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial." Peter scoffed. "I don't care if you only say a few curses over the proceedings, these 'ceremonies' involve human sacrifice!" The ectoplasmic being shrugged with all six of his blue shoulders. "And I should care about insignificant human lives, why?" Flipping the switch on his proton pack, Peter said, "Because we 'insignificant humans' are gonna kick your ghostly ass. Ready, guys?" "Ready!" Egon, Winston and Ray chorused. "Aim," Peter said and they all turned on their packs and focused their beams on the ghoul. "Fire!" Five minutes later it was all over but the paperwork. The 'Agent of Satan' was, no matter how vile, in the end only a lowly class seven, and he went down just like any other ghost of his caliber. "Mm-mm-mm," Winston tsked. "They're just not making evil entities the way they used to. Time was, we'd be chasin' one of these things for a good half hour before we got anywhere near to runnin' him to ground." "I know what you mean, Zed," Peter said, slinging one arm over Egon's shoulder. "So, Spengs, you got any ideas why this bust was so easy?" "Negative, Peter," Egon said, examining some readings on his PKE meter. "I am, however, worried about this entity that Class Seven called 'Satan.' Most of the beings we've gone up against do not masquerade as characters from the Bible. They don't care about instilling fear, so they wouldn't take on names not their own." "You think this means that the guy tall, blue and slimy was working for actually is Satan?" Peter asked skeptically. "Well, if he was, then ol' Beelzebub must be losing his touch," Ray put in. "I thought to be a minion of the devil you at least had to be powerful - this guy had no more power than your average Class Four." "They just don't make demonic denizens like they used to," Peter said mock-mournfully. Egon rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt that that Class Seven actually worked for 'the' Satan. Nonetheless, we should be watchful." "And I'm all for 'watching' you, Spengs," Peter joked, leering playfully at his lover. As the two lovebirds traded banter back and forth, Ray sighed and turned to Winston. "You think they'll ever stop using busts as foreplay?" he asked. Shaking his head, Zeddemore said, "Nope. But maybe someday they'll stop making out in the car on the way back to the firehouse." Ray glanced quickly over at Peter and Egon, and grimaced. They were leaning up against the side of Ecto 1, wrapped around each other, their mouths glued together. Sighing, he said, "Somehow, Winston, I think that'll be a long time in coming."