Work Text:
Ghostbusters / Real Ghostbusters
Kudos: To Audrey for the beta. It's not easy to do with this sort of format.
Notes: The format and first two lines of this story are borrowed from "The Night Before Christmas", by Major Henry Livingston Jr. (or possibly Clement Clarke Moore, depending where you get your information).
Disclaimers: The Real Ghostbusters and its characters are the property of Columbia Pictures and DIC. This story is written for entertainment. Original author-created characters, stories and story ideas are the sole property of the author and should not be archived without permission from the author.
Feedback appreciated, constructive criticism always welcomed.
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The Ghost Before Christmas
by Tiffany
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
They fled, mouse and all, for a ghost dwelled there.
It waited for Santa to give him a scare.
It drank all the milk and ate every cookie it found;
Licked all the candy and tossed the wrappers around.
It shook all the presents and switched all the labels;
Cracked all the nuts and left the shells on the tables.
It scattered the tinsel and removed the angel,
And put it back, bent in an unlikely angle.
It emptied the stockings, flung gifts everywhere,
Then it danced around in its new outer-wear.
When out of the night there arose such a noise,
The ghost thought Santa had arrived with the toys!
But it was the Ghostbusters with their ghost traps,
Waving their throwers and wearing their proton packs.
First came Peter, complaining about his lost nap.
Then Ray bounced in, wearing his red Santa's cap.
Egon followed, P.K.E. meter in hand.
Winston entered last, completing our fearless band.
The ghost bobbed by its mess, and Ray frowned at the sight,
"You should be ashamed of yourself, haunting this night!"
Peter asked, "What is this, the ghost of the Grinch?"
No, it wasn't the ghost of Christmas of any tense;
But was just the right shade of holiday green.
It bared its teeth, and looked tricksy instead of mean;
The ghost stuck out its tongue then shouted with glee,
And threw every candy cane it found on the tree.
They pepperminted Ray, and made his hat teeter;
Snagged on Egon's glasses, and hung from his meter.
The ghost dive-bombed them and the men scattered.
Peter, too slow, was generously splattered.
He groaned, then sniffed. "It got me with peppermint slime?"
Peter said, "Out of my way, that Scrooge-ghost is mine!"
He chased the ghost with his particle stream,
Its colors alight in the holiday theme.
The ghost fled to the tree, jostling balls from the limbs.
The particle stream hit and gave the tree a trim.
Egon's stream followed the ghost to the fireplace,
And crisped the stockings, though the ghost flew like an ace.
It blew a raspberry and had a giggle fit,
It didn't see Winston sneaking up behind it.
"Gotcha!" Winston said as he ensnared the ghost.
It gulped, said, "Ooh," when it realized it was toast.
Light spilled into the room when Ray opened the trap.
The ghost cried, "Boo hoo..." Then the doors closed with a snap.
"Well, that takes care of the ghost who would steal Christmas,"
Winston said. He shook his head and sighed. "What a mess."
The tree was shortened, needles littered the floor;
Slime glistened on bricks, and the new fire roared.
"Now we'll never get another holiday pay,"
Peter complained. "At least we saved the presents," said Ray.
"Hmmm," said Egon, his attention on his meter,
"These are very unusual readings, Peter."
Ray looked, said excitedly, "You know what this means?"
"Impossible, Ray. He's a myth, not a real being."
But Egon looked up when a thump sounded on cue.
As footsteps and jingles crossed the roof, the guys knew,
It was neither a thief, nor a ghostly fright;
For this was, indeed, a most magical night.