Chapter Three: Hot Night

 

Chapter Three: Hot Night

            Gravity Falls, Oregon was a breeding ground for supernatural and extraterrestrial activities. It was just two years ago when Bill Cipher emerged from the Nightmare Realm, just as an all-female Ghostbusters team from another dimension came to town. Had it not been for their bravery, along with that of the Ghostbusters of the present dimension (the aesthetically-named “Disney Ghostbusters”) and the Men in Black, the whole of reality would’ve certainly been wiped out.

            Nevertheless, threats still remained within the town’s limits. They might not have been as dangerous or deadly as Bill Cipher, but someone still had to keep them in check. With the female Ghostbusters team no longer defending the town, the M.I.B. thought it best to keep a pair of agents stationed to deal with the weirdness.

            Agents Jay and Kay, who were present during the Cipher incident, passed on the opportunity, due to their commitments in the New York sector. Not that it would have mattered, since two resident agents volunteered for the job: Agent Em and her husband, Agent Ess. Of course, it was more of the kind-hearted, gentle-thinking Agent Em volunteering on behalf of herself and the brash, hardened Agent Ess, who would’ve preferred that they stay in New York.

            On personal recommendation from Agent Kay, the two agents stopped by Greasy’s Diner with M.I.B. consultants Gabby Duran and the Pines family (Dipper, Mabel, and their “Grunkle” Stan). They showed up there to try a chocolate ice cream pie that Kay grew fond of during his time of staking out for Cipher.

            Best pie I’ve ever tasted. First thing you kids should try when you’re there.

            As fate would have it, at the exact time they arrived in Greasy’s, they discovered that the diner had a huge pest problem…in the form of a small, blue koala-like alien space creature with large black eyes, antennae, a spotted back with protruding spines, and four arms.

            “What is that thing?!” Agent Ess bellowed in his disgust. “It looks gross!”

            “I think it looks kinda cute,” Agent Em said.

            The team successfully caught the creature through an idea Mabel had, which involved luring it into a portable dog kennel with a peanut butter-and-fried egg sandwich (luckily, Greasy’s just happened to have both at hand).

            “That was a genius idea, Mabel,” Em praised. “How did you know it liked that kind of sandwich?”

            “A neighbor of ours back in Piedmont had a Rottweiler with the weirdest cravings,” Mabel said.

            “You mean Rocky? I remember that dog,” Dipper reminisced. “Is that why his breath always smelled like radishes and licorice? I always assumed Mr. Robbins just never brushed his teeth!”

            After having Greasy’s top-of-the-line chocolate ice cream pie, the team neuralyzed Lazy Susan and walked out with their captured alien, who rattled around in the portable dog kennel that Ess took upon himself to carry. “Quiet, you!” he snapped to the alien. “You should be lucky that we didn’t blast you into sludge…” He then added belligerently, “At least, that’s what I would’ve done.”

            His ideal alternative action alarmed Em, Mabel, and specifically Gabby (a well-renowned “alien babysitter”). “You really weren’t plannin’ on doing that, were you?” Duran asked Ess.

            “If it was my call, you bet,” Ess strictly attested.

            “He doesn’t really mean that,” Em told Mabel.

            “Yes, I do!” Ess barked.

            “Nah, you talk a big game, but you’re still that sweet lil’ teddy bear I know who always cries at the end of Toy Story 4.”

            Ess’s teeth clenched in humiliation. “Honey! Not in front of the kids!”

            “I have to agree with Ess on this, guys,” Dipper vouched. “One perfect blast would’ve got the job done a whole lot quicker. Plus, we would’ve caused less property damage for Susan to clean up, instead of blaming it on busted plumbing.”

            “I get ya, bro, but ya gotta admit that a kindlier, gentler approach was the right way to do it,” Mabel said.

            “Am I the only one who saw how rabid this thing was in there?” Ess griped, nodding at the rattling kennel he carried. “All I’m saying is if it acts like a rabid dog, it should’ve been put down like one.”

            Mabel couldn’t believe how callous the M.I.B. agent was. “Why do boys have to solve everything with violence?”

            “Sometimes brute force is the best solution to a dangerous problem, Mabel,” Dipper professed as they all clambered into Ess and Em’s M.I.B.-sanctioned vehicle, a 2019 Chevy Traverse. Stan opted to sleep in the backseat while the team was in the diner (pretty much missing all the action).

            “I’m just not buyin’ that, Dip,” Mabel argued. “Sometimes a problem can be solved with something a little more than violence – even Grunkle Stan believes that.”

            Dipper snorted out a chuckle. “Grunkle Stan?! Since when?!”

            “Since yesterday.”

            Mabel slammed her car door shut, inadvertently snapping her great-uncle out of his slumber. “I’m woke! I’m woke!” he blurted out.

            Sitting at the wheel, Ess was about to rocket the Traverse to New York to deliver their captured alien, when they received a transmission through the car radio. “Ford to team! Ford to team! Can you read me?”

            It was Ford Pines, the fourth member of the Pines family and the M.I.B.’s most valued consultant (with Dipper as their second). “We read ya, Ford,” Ess responded to him. “What’s your status?”

            “I’ve just come across a strange monolith in the woods,” Ford said. “Never seen it around this part of the forest before. It could possibly be alien.”

            Simultaneous to Ford’s report, the M.I.B. team noticed yet another bizarre occurrence, not very far from their current location: four individuals – three average-dressed teenagers and a tall, redheaded African American woman in some sort of uniform – materialized out of a stream of subatomic particles. The strangers proceeded to walk through the town, with the redheaded African American woman apparently scanning certain buildings in the area.

            The M.I.B. team was so dumbfounded by what they just saw, they nearly forgot about Ford. “Hello?” Ford said over the radio. “Anyone still read me?”

            “Duh, y-yeah,” Ess snapped out of it. “Stan, Dip, and I will be right there.”

            “Gotcha,” Ford acknowledged. “I’ll see you boys soon. Over and out.”

            As soon as Ess switched off the radio transmitter, he turned to Em, Mabel, and Gabby and instructed, “You girls find out who our new visitors are and what their intentions might be in this town. Let’s hope they’re good.”

-------------------

            Natalie, J.G., Sean, and Jacqueline decided to extend Linguini’s “free meal” offer to the Green family, who were the only other remaining customers from the mass scare generated by the Slimer battalion. It was the least they could do after their night out had been ruined.

            “Ruined it?!” Alice uttered with a snicker. “The way I see it, ya’ll saved it.”

            She wasn’t exaggerating. The Ghostbusters’ very essence in the wrecked, partially slimed establishment livened up an otherwise dull night for the Greens. They laughed over corny jokes, shared personal experiences (turns out that the Greens come from Natalie’s home state of North Carolina), and even split the bill.

            “Ya know what would make this night even better: karaoke,” Cricket said, a sentiment his family and the Ghostbusters all agreed on.

            “Too bad Hoots is permanently closed for business,” Alice lamented. “We could head on over there right now and get our karaoke on.”

            “Why not have it here?” Natalie suggested. “We got the Ecto right over there with the speakers and a working microphone. All we gotta do is put on some tunes, and we can jam on right here at Gusteau’s!”

            They went right to work getting it all set up.

            Once it was done, the Descendants were the first to volunteer to go up, standing beside the rear of the Ectomobile with the speakers positioned at opposite sides of it. “Before we start, we’re gonna need one other person up here with us,” Mal said into the mic. She then looked to Bill and beckoned, “Mr. Green, would you do the honors?”

            Bill hadn’t anticipated participating in the karaoke; but, with his family and the Ghostbusters cheering him on, there was no way he could refuse. “Well…alright,” he conceded. “But I don’t really have much of a singing voice.”

            “That’s not true, Papa,” Tilly politely disagreed. “I’ve heard you sing in the shower all the time.”

            Bill’s bright yellow complexion reddened in embarrassment.

            “Just follow our lead, Mr. Green,” Evie instructed. “You’ll be fine.”

            With the twist of her finger, Mal switched on the music – a familiar tune booming through the speakers that the Ghostbusters and the other Green family members clapped and swayed along to…

Evie:
Let me tell you something you can really trust.
Everybody’s got a wicked side.

Bill:
I sure don’t.

Mal:
I know you think that you could never be like us.

Bill:
Never said I did.

Mal:
Watch and learn so you can get it right.

Bill:
Uh…O.K.?

Carlos and Jay:
You need to drag your feet.
You need to nod your head.
You need to lean back.

Bill (literally leans back):
Ow! I think one slip through the crack!

Carlos and Jay:
You need to not care.

Bill:
Uh, I think I should care.

Descendants:
You need a whole lot of help.

Bill:
I just wanna be myself.

Mal and Evie:
You wanna be cool?
Let us show you how.
Need to break the rules,
We can show you how.

Bill:
You guys sure Cricket’s not the one who should be—

Descendants:
And once you catch this feeling
Yeah, once you catch this feeling
You’ll be chillin’, chillin’, oh!
Chillin’ like a villain (chillin’)
Chillin’ like a villain (chillin’)

Bill:
Hey, kids. I really don’t know if I wanna do anything “like a villain.”

Evie:
You draw attention when you act like that.
Let us teach you how to disappear.
You look like you would lose a fight to an alley cat.

Bill:
Hey! That’s not very—

Mal:
You gotta be wrong to get it right 'round here. (RAWR!)

Carlos and Jay:
You need to watch your back
You need to creep around.

Bill:
That sounds illegal, boys.

Carlos and Jay:
You need to slide real smooth
Don’t make a sound.
And if you want it, take it.
And if you can't take it, break it!

Bill:
Why do I feel like we’re singing about burglary?
What kind of song is this?!

Mal and Evie:
You wanna be cool?
Let us show you how.
Need to break the rules,
We can show you how.

Descendants:
And once you catch this feeling
Yeah, once you catch this feeling
You’ll be chillin’, chillin’, oh!
Chillin’ like a villain (chillin’)
Chillin’ like a villain (chillin’)

Bill:
Listen, kids. I do wanna be cool a lot.

Evie:
Then give it your best shot.

Bill:
But it’s hard being what I’m not.

Carlos:
Then show us what you got.

Mal:
Being a little bad can be good, you’ll see.
So show us what you can be.

Bill (does a funky dance):
Like this?

Descendants:
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Bill (amps it up):
Like this?!

Descendants (enthusiastically):
Yeah, yeah!

Bill (excitedly):
Yeah! I get it now!
I know exactly how

Descendants:
How to…?

Bill:
I know to be cool
You’ve shown me how
I can break a few rules
You’ve shown me how
And now I’ve got this feeling
Boy, I’ve got the feeling!
I’m chillin’, chillin’, yeah!
Chillin’ like a villain (chillin’)
Chillin’ like a villain (chillin’)

 

            Bill ended his performance with the Descendants on a rousing note, surprising everyone in the room. If none of them knew any better, they would think it was all choreographed beforehand. Nonetheless, it was received with a standing ovation.

            “I had no idea Papa was so rhythmic,” Tilly observed.

            “Neither did I,” Cricket concurred.

            Unfortunately for the first performing group, they didn’t have enough time to soak in all the praises before Alice pushed them all off the stage. “Enough of all that hip-hop garbage,” she griped. “It’s about time we spiced it up a bit.” She then called for Linguini, who was enjoying the festivities while serving fruit punch. “Hey, you! Pretty boy! Get up here and duet with me!”

            Just like Bill, Linguini had no choice but to comply, not wishing to ruin everyone’s good time. Not before long did he and Alice break into a sing-along to “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” (and, yes, they did do the swan dive/catch).

            During Alice and Linguini’s performance, Jacqueline took a moment to herself, leaving the table and heading towards the restrooms. Spengler took notice of this and joined up with her before she could go into the women’s restroom. “Jacqueline, are you alright?” he noticed her scrolling on her iPhone.

            “Yeah, I’m cool,” she told him. “I was just researching.”

            “Anything I can help out with?” Spengler asked.

            Jacqueline considered his proposal. “Not unless you know anything more about that haunted place in Washington Heights.”

            “Gracie Manor?”

            “That’s the one. I’ve been doing some private investigating on it, and I recently uncovered some telling mysteries about it.”

            “Enlighten me.”

            “Well, for one, my great ancestor – Z. Edward Winston – worked as a slave on the plantation that the manor was originally settled on in Louisiana. So how the heck did it end up all the way here in New York?”

            Spengler admitted it was quite the conundrum worthy of a proper Ghostbusters-supported investigation. “I’m not entirely sure of that,” he said in regards to Jacqueline’s query. “But I assure you we’ll get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.” Jacqueline appreciated his assurance. If he weren’t so much taller than her, she would’ve given him a kiss on the cheek.

            They returned to the karaoke party just as Clary requested to Natalie, “How ‘bout that new song you wrote?”

            “Nat, you wrote a song?!” a surprised J.G. exclaimed.

            Per usual, Venkman feigned modesty. “Oh, it’s just a lil’ thing I’ve been collaborating on with Pharrell.”

            “Pharrell Williams?!”

            Natalie rolled her irritated eyes at J.G. “No, Pharrell Washington,” she teased. “Yes, Pharrell Williams!”

            “Could ya sing it for us, Miss Venkman?” Tilly requested.

            The others supported Tilly’s request, prompting Natalie (who already made up her mind before all the begging) to rush up to the stage. She unzipped the upper half of her Ghostbuster jumpsuit, tying it around her waist. “O.K., boys and girls,” she said in a spicy tone that had Cricket melting in his seat. “Get ready…for a hot night!”

            She switched on music that had an 80s style beat to it, swung her long black hair around to make it look wild and crazy (to the cheers of her audience), and proceeded to the sing the lyrics to her song…

Here in the Night
There’s a perfume in the air
You can almost smell the danger
Pressed in a crowd
You can feel the heat flow
In the touch of every stranger

We’re out on the town
And it’s passion that we’re after
Keep fanning the flame
Just a little fasterrrrr!

It’s gonna be a hot night!
We’re gonna have a hot night tonight!
It’s gonna be a hot night!
We won’t get no sleep tonight
Too hot, it’s too hot!

            Natalie momentarily moved into the crowd, pulling Cricket out of his seat and up to the stage with her. Cricket was as stiff as a board, not expecting to have been part of Natalie’s performance (not that he would’ve complained). His eyes were locked on Natalie as she continued singing, now directly to him…

The need in your eyes
Hits me to the heart
With a shot of stimulation
A moment with me
In a moment I will see
The burning fascination

No stopping it now
We’ve got to stay in motion
We’re two-foot of fire
Two-foot of emotionnnn!

It’s gonna be a hot night!
We’re gonna have a hot night tonight!
It’s gonna be a hot night!
We won’t get no sleep tonight
Too hot, it’s too hot!

            Cricket lost himself not only in the lyrics, but in Natalie’s beauty as well. He fantasized the two of them dancing together like in that bad 80s movie he watched one late night on television (the one that actually had “dance” in the title). There she was, in his 80s fantasy, wearing a loose grey sweatshirt (with the Ghostbusters logo printed on the front), black leggings, and pink leg warmers with a headband to match. The fantasy only got crazier when Cricket visualized Natalie sitting back in a chair and pulling a chord that dumped gallons of water all over her body.

            Cricket must’ve imagined himself in the splash zone, because he really got soaked.

            No, he really got soaked. Someone threw ice-cold fruit punch right in his face. And that “someone” turned out to have been his sister. “Tilly!” he yelled, coughing out bits of the punch that flew against the back of his throat. “What’s the big idea throwin’ punch in my face?!”

            “Sorry, brother,” Tilly said. “But you’ve been standin’ there for minutes and makin’ that weird face again.”

            Cricket hadn’t realized it until he saw the others, including Natalie (who finished singing a long time ago), staring directly at him with random, odd expressions. Without saying a word, he gave an awkward smile and returned to his seat. Getting the party back on track, Natalie asked those in attendance, “Any more requests?”

            “Do the Bartman!”

            That specific request surprised Natalie. “Wow, ya’ll really are goin’ retro tonight.” She then did a double take over the particular voice that made the request. Its high-pitched, adolescent register sounded very familiar to her. “Wait a sec. Isn’t that…?” She looked past the crowd to see two other individuals in Ghostbuster uniforms with skin a lot more yellow than the Greens.

            Bart and Homer Simpson. Two of the B-Team Ghostbusters that were – for some reason – there at Gusteau’s with Mickey, Donald, Goofy, and three other people who neither she nor her teammates recognized.

            Homer looked on the ensemble of bemused faces gazing back at them.

            “We just pooped on the party, didn’t we?” he questioned in shame.