All About the Anthonys

Washington, D.C. – Three Days Later . . .

So it was that the two teams of Ghostbusters would work together once agan a n a case, for the first time in nearly a decade, and for the federal government, no less. Jessica’s station sent her to cover the event. The major news stations from New York City and D.C. were also on call.

The Ghostbusters all left their children with their grandparents, as the wives all wanted to join in the reunion as Jessica would also be there. The U.S. Mint put them all up in deluxe executive suites at the Four Seasons Hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue in picturesque Georgetown. “See, Egon? That’s what working for the government gets you! We do a quick bust, with half the work, thanks to Jake, Eddie and Neil, and we get to live the sweet life with the wives. How cool is that?” Peter asked him.

Egon had to admit, Venkman was right. It would be nice to get away with Janine too. A little downtime was just what everyone needed.

No sooner had they dropped their bags in their rooms than Janine and Kel went looking for Jessica and Kayla to join in on a shopping spree through Georgetown. Dana and Alice preferred to spend the day at the Smithsonian Institute.

The men, being there on business, had no time for tourism . . . yet. They went straight to the U.S. Mint building to find out more about the job. Ecto-1 had been brought in on the private jet that carried New York’s team to the nation’s capital. The seven men arrived in full regalia in the suped up ambulance. The press was not yet present, to Peter’s dismay, but the fans were already lining the street trying to get a glimpse of these heroes known the world over.

They were outside signing autographs for a while when a hefty man in an ill-fitting but expensive suit came trotting out to greet them.

“Ghostbusters! I’m Quentin Randolph.” His breath reeked of chocolate.

“Ah, yes. Quentin Randolph,” Egon addressed him with a smug, but serious expression. “The gentleman who openly disparages our wives.”

Randolph flushed. “Uh, about that. I didn’t mean any offense.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Peter replied. “And you can show us how sorry you are by paying the insanely padded bill we’re going to give you when all this is over.”

“But, your websites both say that a standard bust is $2,000. We have no reason to believe that this is anything but standard. It’s only one ghost.”

“We’ll be the judges of what’s standard, Mr. Randolph,” Eddie contested.

“Besides,” Winston added. “You’re a mint. If you don’t have enough money to pay us, you can just make more.” The others all grinned and Neil put his hand over his mouth to stifle a chuckle.

“I . . . uh, I’m only authorized to pay . . .”

“Looks like we got a deadbeat, Pete,” Ray said. “Let’s go.” The seven of them began to head back to Ecto-1, as if they were leaving.

“Wait! Okay, um . . . whatever extra monies need to be paid, I . . . I’ll pay it out of my own pocket.”

“Both companies,” Egon and Jake said simultaneously.

“Of course.” Randolph was in line for a big promotion and pay raise because of this new coin. He wasn’t going to let a few measly thousand bucks prevent that.

“That’s what we like to hear, Quentie.” Peter tossed a convivial arm around the man’s shoulders. “Now, give us the spiel.”

“Well, Dr. Venkman, she appeared a few days ago in a conference room, but now she’s started terrorizing the whole floor. We think she’s trying to drive everyone from the building. She hasn’t hurt anyone yet, but it’s likely just a matter of time.”

“You called the entity ‘she’. Why do you believe it to be female?” Egon asked while fiddling with his PKE meter.

“Because it’s wearing a dress.”

Peter snorted. “We’re from New York, guy. Being in a dress don’t necessary make someone female.”

“Well, she sounds like a woman. She screeches like my ex-wife.” Winston and Jake exchanged a significant look and stifled their laughter.

Ray pulled out his PKE meter. “Hmm. She’s moving. Fast, too. Wow! Look at this, guys! She’s doin’ 80!”

A group of people could be heard screaming from somewhere inside the building. Moments later, a crowd of office workers came running out of the building. An older woman stopped and punched Quentin in the nose. “I quit!” she yelled, then ran to her car and pulled off, tearing out of the parking lot. The shocked executive stood there clutching his nose, his eyes watering in pain.

“Well, we’ll go take a look and then we’ll go back to the hotel to make a plan on how to deal with it.”

“Whad! You’re leabing?” he whined holding his swollen nose.

“Sure. Didn’t bring much equipment.” Eddie smirked at Egon.

“Bud you gan’d leabe uz ‘ere wid ‘er! We’re baying you da ged rid ob ‘er!”

“And we will,” Jake assured him. “When we’re ready to take care of it. Now, be a good boy and stay out here. We’ll be right back.”

The guys went into the building, PKE meters in hand. They didn’t even bother to split up. It was clearly a simple case that would take them no time and no trouble.

After searching for only ten minutes, they caught up with her. At the same time that their meters all beeped, Jake’s nose began to twitch. They looked up and saw the specter of a middle-aged woman dressed in Victorian garb. “Hello, Sweetheart,” Peter said. She frowned at him malevolently then opened her mouth. They each took an involuntary step back, thinking that she was about to scream. Instead she spoke, her voice merely a breathy whisper.

“You are not involved in this matter. Leave and do not return here.”

“What if we refuse?” Peter asked threateningly.

“Then I shall be forced to make an example of you.” Having spoken these words, she disappeared without a trace. The meters fell silent and Jake’s nose stopped twitching.

Egon was the only one to comment. “Fascinating.”