In which I ghost-bust, but not really.

[featherynscale]

It has come to pass that breathofgold has hired me to work in her agency, which performs exorcisms and general human-spirit relations for clients all around The City. I get up massively early to go to my first assignment, which is at a gym where iron_clad is employed. The project is all hush-hush, so I have to show a key to get in. The key is a picture of David Bowie as the Goblin King, which breathofgold sends me by email. I print it out and make ready to go. For some reason, I appear to be living, or at least staying, in a truck stop.

I drive out to the place, but I get lost several times on the way. By the time I get there, I'm way late. I'm still earlier than breathofgold, though, because she's not there at all. I wait around a while for her, but eventually I decide I have to handle this on my own. I go into the building, which is massive, and has a huge sort of sporting equipment store in the front. I find iron_clad and show him my "key". He takes me back through the store into a warren of smaller rooms, ending in an auditorium.

"They come in here," he says. "On the stage. Be careful, sometimes they throw amplifiers."

"They always come here?" I ask.

"Always. You just have to wait."

I sit down. There are a few other people in the room, who I think are other employees of the gym. We wait for something to happen, and in a few minutes it does. A cold wind blows through the room, and the lights flicker. Then, on the stage, four guys appear and begin to play instruments. They sort of sound like Green Day. I jump up from my seat and *do something, I don't remember what*. The music stops, and the "ghost band" becomes angry. I continue to bother them. They scream, and throw things, as advertised. Finally, though, whatever I'm doing wins out, and they drop to the floor, and stay there.

I walk over to them to examine them and see what manner of beastie they are. One of them is giggling. They're not ghosts at all, they're magicians fucking around. I grab the giggler by his ear and yank him up off the floor. In the manner of third-grade teachers everywhere, I march him into the office of the man in charge of the gym (who looks a fair amount like J. Jonah Jameson). The other people grab up the other band members and they follow.

At this point, breathofgold finally shows up, but everything is already taken care of. I send her in to negotiate payment with the boss.