Page 37 of A Very No Strings Halloween
They did it in every room of that house of hers, in a lot of different ways. Ways that gave Billy the opportunity to show her how good he was with his tool. And his abs. And his butt.
They had so much fun together.
But one day, when they were fixing the house up, Donna said to Billy, “Billy, I want you to move in with me, but I need you to get rid of the ghost first, so wedon’t have to be scared.”
“Don’t say that to me,” Billy said. “Don’t say somethin’ if you can’t get a take back. You’re gonna move into this house, and then you’ll find out somethin’ about me that you ain’t gonna like. Like about how I like to jump off rooftops and break into Dunkin’ late at night. I’m just some fling you’re havin’, meanwhile you’ll go off and marry some guy who wears loafahs and doesn’t got anywhere near as nice a butt as I do.”
“First of all, your butt is fire—no one has as nice a butt as you do,” Donna said, because she had not yet met any of Billy’s relatives nor seen their behinds. “And second—what’s a loafah?”
“You know—those boring shoes that boring guys who are born rich wear—loafahs.”
“But I want us to be together, Billy. You and me, without the fears or the ghost. If you tell me you don’t want to live with me in this house, then I will leave and you will never see me again. Even though you should be the one to leave because I am the one who owns the house. And even though we currently live next door to each other. But I need to go.”
Billy gathered up all his stubborn, frightened strength and said to her, “I don’t. But I will hunt the ghost for you so you can live here by yourself, because I am a good guy, okay?!”
Donna cried and left. She drove away from the house. Billy was now alone in the big house.
Well, not exactly alone…
As soon as Donna left, there was a thunderstorm. “Come out, come out, wherevah you are, ghost!” Billy shouted. “I’m not afraid a youse!” The lights inside the house flickered and then went out. But in the darkness, another flash of lightning revealed the ghost. “What do you want from me?!” Billy cried out.
The ghost just regarded him kindly.
“Who are you?!” Billy asked, loudly—for Billy said all things loudly.
“I am the Ghost of Parties Past,” the ghost howled. The ghost was a gentle man with a beard and he wore a brown sweater and brown corduroy pants. He seemed very sad. But also scary, as it is very frightening to be confronted by a ghost, especially one who understands you as well as this one understood Billy, in ways that Billy was not yet comfortable talking about. Because even the most brilliant of geniuses are not fluent in the language of the heart until they realize it was the language they were born speaking—they just forgot how.
“Oh yeah? Cool, man, what’s up, cocksucka?” He said that becausecocksuckawas sort of Billy’s love language. It was rather charming the way he said it.
“What’s up is I know about all your partying and shenanigans, Billy. I know about all the stuff you blew up. I know about all the penises you’ve drawn on the faces of people who were passed-out drunk. I know about the prank calls to the Afflecks and the time you lost your wallet and convinced the guy who sells hot dogs at MinutemanStadium that you’re a time traveler and if he didn’t give you five hot dogs and a beer the entire world would explode.”
“Yeah, that was wicked genius of me. How’d you know? What—did you look at my file or somethin’?”
“There’s no file, William. I’m a ghost. I just know things.”
“Okay. Well, big deal—everyone knows about the partying and the shenanigans. I’m legendary.”
“It’s not your fault,” the ghost cried out.
“I know.”
“No, I mean it,” the ghost said, taking one ghostly step closer. “It’s not your fault.”
“Whaddya talkin’ about?”
“It’s not your fault you’re afraid you partied too much for too long and don’t have what it takes to be a husband.”
“Naw, naw, not you, man.”
The ghost took another step closer, cornering Billy. There was thunder and another flash of lightning. “It’s not your fault.”
“Don’t fuck with me, man. Not you too, man! Not you!”
“It’s not your fault.” The ghost whispered it this time as he attempted to embrace Billy, who was now weeping in a very manly, badass way. But alas, the ghost’s arms just passed right through Billy. Because he was an apparition.
“I’m sorry,” Billy sobbed. “I’m sorry I told Donna I didn’t want to live withher, and I’m sorry you’re dead.” Billy wiped away his own tears since the ghost couldn’t do it for him. And then Billy said to the ghost, “And I am sorry that I must ask you to leave. So that I may in fact live here with the woman I love, Donna, after I drive away and find her and bring her back here.”
“It’s cool,” the ghost said, smiling softly. “It’s time for me to take a trip anyway. Gotta get back out there.”
