Why One Should Never Issue Blanket Challenges

Ray peered at the book in front of him and shook his head "Attila The Hun drank yaks blood mixed with honey mead on his wedding night, did you know that?"

"He drank what?" Winston asked, stopping on his journey towards Ecto and a night on the town.

"Bet he had to blindfold his wife to get her to drink it," chipped in Peter. He was lounging on the bench in front of the lockers, a glass of Orgasm on the Beach in one hand and a handful of licorice drops in the other. He popped another drop in his mouth and took a swig of the foaming creamy drink.

"Isn't that licorice enough already for ya, man?"

Winston asked, digging in his pants for the keys to Ecto. "It must taste like you're taking a mouthful of medicine."

"Not really, Egon whipped it up for me with his spanking new blender and he never puts enough aniseed in it," Peter replied languidly.

"He's not still up there, in the kitchen? You do know that alcohol makes an excellent fire accelerant, and he hasn't blown up the lab this month yet," Winston pointed out. Peter was up and sprinting up the stairs like a greyhound dog before he'd finished speaking. Zed chuckled as he headed over for the car. "Arooooo! Ladies had better watch out tonight, Zeddemore is on the prowl!"

"Ew! They covered their hair in oil to kill any pests that might be living there!" Janine squealed. She and Ray were reading a historical book together about the Mongol Empire.

"It's enough to make a body sick!" Ray agreed. "Goodnight Winston!" he added, waving to his friend. Zed waved back then pulled out into traffic just as Peter and Egon made their way down stairs. Egon massaged the bridge of his nose and tried to tell Peter yet again that he was quite capable of being left with flammable goods unsupervised.

"Ah, non-explosive alcohol." Peter nodded sagely. "Do they have a 'no blow up' clause on their packaging, or is this batch of CH3 OH just different from every other sort."

"Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Egon counted dryly.

" 'They almost never had to undress, preferring to smear their clothes with unguents to hide bad smells,' " Janine read aloud in horrified fascination.

"What, you still here?" Peter asked, turning to regard their secretary. "Some one managed to pry you away from the computer and your goal to attain the highest score of Solitaire this month?"

Janine made a singularly rude sign at her boss and turned the page.

"You are in error, Venkman, if you think you can so easily change the subject," Egon rumbled, his blue eyes frosty looking.

Peter dug out his pager and looked at it, willing it to go beep and save him from Egon's wounded diatribe. No such luck, he was doomed to stay and keep Egon safely away from the kitchen while Winston was out dodging willing coeds.

Oh, for the life that had once been his! Egon was eyeing him suspiciously and Ray and Janine were still being in turn fascinated and grossed out by their book.

"Hey, Spengs." He slid close to his lover and reached up to tug on a lock of his hair. "Wanna go down stairs and play 'train drivers'?" he wiggled his eyebrows enticingly.

"Hmm, promise to suck my smoke stack this time?" Egon inquired.

"Promise," Peter told him, and the two lovers snuck down the stairs.

 Email the Author  |  Home  |  Back to Index

Back to Fire Frog