Chapter 81 - 29
Chapter 29: "Jogging with Ghosts and Unpacking Trauma in Sweatpants"
In which my childhood bully says something almost nice before totally ruining it.
Back at the Fenton household—also known as the Ghost Zone's least favorite Bed and Breakfast—Jack and Maddie were seated at the kitchen table, surrounded by blueprints, ghost detectors, and a half-eaten plate of nuclear-green waffles.
You know. Typical Tuesday.
"Well, Maddie," Jack said, tapping the butt of his beloved ghost blaster like it was a family heirloom (it wasn't, unless you counted third-degree burns as inheritance), "last night was... something."
Maddie took a careful sip of her extra-strength ghostproof coffee. "Something is one word. Catastrophe is another."
Outside, the smoking remains of what used to be a perfectly good suburban home still lingered in the air. Courtesy of one DJ Ghost and Jack's impromptu Ghostbuster Gone Wild routine.
"Did you see Danny?" Jack said, puffing out his chest like a proud walrus in a hazmat suit. "Our boy wasn't scared. Not one bit. He stood his ground, used music to exorcise the ghost right outta that guy. Just like one of those musical theater kids, only useful!"
Maddie raised an eyebrow. "Jack, he nearly got incinerated. Again."
Jack blinked. "But he didn't! That's the point. He's learning, Maddie. Our little guy is out there punching poltergeists and singing them into submission."
Maddie couldn't deny it. Last night, Danny had acted like a hero. A weirdly talented, karaoke-fueled, occasionally-on-fire hero. And even though Jack's entrance had been more 'Michael Bay' than 'Mission: Impossible,' it had ended with the ghost neutralized and no more fires spreading.