"They're here!" The voice is jovial, bouncy, so saccharine the proper application could rot the skull cavity. "Can we play with them now?"
"No." Brutally clipped, stark, bell-like tones characterized this new voice. "Let them wander aimlessly yet. They don't have enough evidence to have a clue where to go."
"The cookie was a nice touch, right? Right?"
"Give a cop a cookie. Yes. Too bad it wasn't your idea."
"But I gave it to him . . ."
"Shut up. We're here to observe while the Ghost is on patrol."
"I wish he'd get back soon. It's no fun sitting around with you. I'd have much more fun if I could get back to my day job."
"Then go. I can do this myself."
"Boss-guy wants us both here."
"Why?"
"Something about the balance of things. I dunno - that area of knowledge isn't my thing, y'know?"
"All too well. I have to clean up after you."
"Hey! Those were my toys, I wanted them that way!"
"Leaving them that way interferes with the natural laws!"
"So?"
"I leave for a few hours, and this is how you two behave?" The earlier voice from the phone conversation has returned. "You're as bad as Melody and her brother. Can't leave the two of them alone for a second. They're either fucking like crazy or beating each other senseless." The voice laughed. "You should see their kids."
"Happy now, Chaos?" the harsher voice said.
"Yup!"
The sound of two pairs of footsteps, one heavy and methodical, the other a psychotic pitter-patter.
"I hope they enjoyed themselves. At least it bodes well for our little gang of fools." The owner of the voice stretched, cracking his back. "I wonder if Icy remembers me?" He laughed. "Ah, he's probably forgotten all about me. Maybe not. It's hard to remember the dead."
The Ghost muttered something to the effect of "escher you fuck" and promptly rocketed earthward. When he opened his eyes, he was corporeal once more, and not only that, he was sitting in the exploded wreck that was once one of Sherm's cooking pots. There also seemed to be the faint odor of penguin in the air.
"FUCK!" Sherm yelled. "Penguins!" He came tearing around the corner, chased by a mob of furiously squawking black-and-white members of the avian species. He came to a dead stop, seeing Ghost sprawled over his oven. "Hey! You! Outta my cooking shit!" He would have said more, but the penguins decided to mob him.
Ghost hopped off the oven to find pandemonium had been unleashed upon the Diner. Penguins waddled between tables, squawking at the customers. He shook his head, grinning in confusion.
"Not exactly the choir of angels I was told to expect," he said.
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