“Where are you?!” said Lydia as she ran to the miniature model of the town. She found who she was looking for sitting on two tombstones and breathed a sigh of relief. “Help them, please.”
He looked up from picking at his nails with a sneer. “Sure. I can help. But you gotta help me.”
“What?”
“Look,” said the ghost, swinging around so his feet hung down in front of him. “I'm what you might call an illegal alien. I want out. For good. In order for me to do that, hey, I gotta get married.”
He noticed Lydia shrink back in disgust with slight amusement. “Hey, these aren’t my rules. Come to think of it, I don't have any rules.” He chuckled at his own joke.
The goth teen before him looked over to wear the Maitlands floated in the air, crumbling into dust. If he didn't act quickly, he wouldn't have anyone to use as a bargaining chip with the girl. “Come on, come on. Look, think of it as a marriage of inconvenience, okay? We both get something. I get out. You get to say you're hitched with the most eligible bachelor since Valentino came over. We're even, babe.
She looked to the Maitlands again. “Okay, just help them.” she insisted. He inspected his nails one more time and smiled. “Sure.” Putting the stick he had been using into his jacket pocket, he sniffed in a self-satisfied way and waited for the magic words.
“Betelgeuse.”
“ Betelgeuse”
He dusted off the sleeves of his striped suit.
“ Betelgeuse”
Betelgeuse looked at his fiance and extend his arms in a showman-like manner. “It's showtime."
