Chapter Text
The Holiday Truce (officially called something else, but he wasn’t even going to think the C-word) was in full swing. A very mild full swing. Danny didn’t think he’d ever seen ghosts so… calm. It was weird. Also kind of annoying, to know that they could do calm, and just chose not to, ninety percent of the time.
As for Danny himself, he was much the same. Sitting peacefully in his corner and drinking his ghost nog (no, he hadn’t asked what it was made of, he didn’t really want to know). Most of the ghosts were gathered around the buffet table (still weird), the holiday tree (he wasn’t thinking about it), or the roaring fireplace. All of them just… talking to one another. Or playing a complicated-looking board game that had Technus and Skulker glaring daggers at each other. Or sitting quietly. Even Ghost Writer (free from prison, for the time being), was grumpily stirring a mug of ghot chocolate (ghost hot chocolate) with a candy ghost (not nearly as well suited to the task as a candy cane).
It was… nice? Nice-ish? He couldn’t help but be a little on edge, with all his enemies around, but none of them had made a move against him.
A clock on the mantle chimed ten times.
Skulker and Technus both jumped up immediately. Many of the other ghosts seemed to perk up as well, looking around themselves with interest. “That’s time, yeah?” asked Kitty. “Babe, that’s the right time, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I think so,” said Johnny. “Oi, SKULKER!”
“Shut up!” shouted Skulker. “I’m looking for it, brat!”
“Yeah,” said Johnny to Kitty. “Totally time. Can’t believe the old man forgot.”
“I’m not that old!”
Skulker looked around the room with a scowl on his face, then headed straight towards Danny, who floated upward, holding his ghost nog in front of him defensively. “What?” he asked.
He received an eyeroll from Skulker as the armored ghost reached under the stool he’d been sitting on and retrieved a–
“Is that a funeral urn?” asked Danny.
“Someone’s idea of a joke,” grumbled Skulker. “Are you going to put your name in?”
“For what?”
“No one told you? Every year, at this Truce party, we do a drawing for prizes. A few small ones, and a big one. You missed the last one.”
“What kind of prizes?” asked Danny.
“The best kind of prize,” called Johnny. “The grand prize–”
“Shut up,” said Kitty. “We don’t want him to put his name in. Fewer people, better odds for us. We can still get ours double, right?”
Skulker sighed. “As far as I know, yes.”
Kitty squealed and hugged Johnny. “This is going to be the best New Year’s ever!”
Well, Danny was curious, now. “Sure, I’ll put my name in. Do I need to–?”
“I’ll take care of it,” grumbled Skulker. A pad of paper popped out of the arm of his armor, a pen extended from the tip of the pointer finger on the opposite hand, and he scribbled Danny’s name down on the paper before tearing it and shoving it haphazardly into the bag. “Anyone else?” he called.
A couple ghosts Danny wasn’t terribly familiar with called out, but for the most part, it seemed as if the people who wanted their names in the drawing had already gotten it in earlier. Apparently, the grand prize was really coveted, whatever it was.
… Danny probably should’ve asked more about it when he had the chance, but now Skulker was surrounded by a sizeable crowd of eager ghosts, and it just didn’t seem like the time.
“Settle down, settle down,” said Skulker. He pointed a fist at the ceiling and fired a small rocket, which exploded with a bang and a firework-like burst as soon as it cleared his head. “Alright.” He cleared his throat. “As usual, the small prizes first.”
He reached into the bag and pulled out a name. All the ghosts leaned inwards, many at angles that would have had humans tumbling to the ground.
“Lunch Lady.”
“Yes!” said Lunch Lady, springing into the air from her place towards the back of the crowd.
“You’ve won a gift card to the BOO-tique.” He held up what looked like… yep. That was just a plastic gift card with a cutesy logo on it.
The Lunch Lady whooped and snatched the card out of his hand. “New kitchen gadgets here. I. Cooooooooome!” She stretched in the way that ghosts sometimes did when they got too excited to move their bodies normally, lengthening and warping horribly into a sort of green-and-pink transparent snake, then snapped like a rubber band into a more human snake at the door, before practically exploding out of it.
Okay. So. Gift cards. That was… surprisingly normal. Then again, that was sort of the whole underlying theme of the Holiday Truce in general. Ghosts acting surprisingly normal. Grotesque body warpings or no.
He wondered how big of a gift card it was, and what else the BOO-tique sold. He’d never even heard of it.
Which wasn’t all that surprising, really. He didn’t spend a lot of time in the Ghost Zone, and the time he spent there wasn’t used for shopping.
… Come to think of it, Danny wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a store in the Ghost Zone. Was the BOO-tique the only one?
Skulker reached into the bag again. “Ghost Writer,” he read.
“Oho?” said Ghost Writer. “What is it?”
“You’ve won a happy hour at Noelle’s Hot Chocolate Bar and a ticket to–” Danny tuned out the name, the evil, evil name, “--Workshop, at Holliday Hollow.”
“Oooh,” said Ghost Writer, making grabby hands at the coupons. Ugh. He would like something like that. Cursed-holiday poem enjoyer.
If the grand prize was something like that, Danny didn’t want it. Gross.
“And now,” said Skulker, too flat to be dramatic. “The one you’ve been waiting for. This year’s grand prize.”
If any of the ghosts breathed, they would have been holding their breath.
The bag rustled as Skulker reached in, pulled out a scrap of notepaper, unfolded it, and then said, obviously displeased. “Phantom.”
There was a groan of disappointment.
“But he’s not even dead!” complained Poindexter.
“This has to be against the rules,” grumbled Walker.
“You should have said something before I put his name in, then,” said Skulker, brusquely. “Come here, Phantom.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Danny, weaving his way through the crowd to float next to Skulker. “What is it?”
“He doesn’t even know what it is!” said Johnny, loudly.
“If ignorance was enough to disqualify a person,” growled Skulker, “none of you would be allowed to compete in anything.” Skulker handed him an envelope.
The paper was fancy, a kind of heavy cream swirled with green. The kind of thing that Sam had in her stationary set (Sam always had such weird old person hobbies). There were little sparkles in it, and the letter was sealed with an actual wax seal.
“Fancy,” said Danny, raising his eyebrows.
“Just open it,” said Skulker, sounding exhausted.
Danny shrugged and, with a flick of his wrist, manifested a letter opener from ice. For a bit of flair, he shaped rose patterns into the hilt. He could be fancy, too.
The tip of the blade slid beneath the wax seal and easily popped it off. Danny bent the flap back with his thumb and slid out an equally-fancy card.
You are cordially invited to
YOUR OWN FUNERAL
“You know,” joked Danny, looking up from the card, “there were less elaborate ways for you to tell me that you wanted me dead.”
“Well, if you don’t want it,” said Johnny, trying to snatch the card.
Skulker smacked his hands. “Just keep reading, Phantom.”
This card entitles the bearer to one Full Service Funeral with up to Ten (10) VIP Mourners.*
Full Service Funerals include: Funeral counseling, one funeral of the selected mode, up to three religious services with appropriate practitioners, wake or equivalent celebration, and funeral keepsakes associated with chosen funeral mode
Funerals may be centered on the spiritual body, an effigy body, or the actual physical body** of the decedent. Funeral modes include standard burial, cremation (scattering optional), state funeral, sky burial, sea burial, viking, rope burial, bog burial, ice burial, entombment, transmutation, and green. Most religious preferences can be accommodated. If you do not see your preferred funeral mode please speak to one of our funeral counselors. The service is not responsible for injuries or damage to a body as the result of a chosen funeral mode.
*Transport of VIP Mourners to the primary location is the responsibility of the decedent. Standard Professional Mourners may also be provided on request.
**Physical and spiritual bodies must be provided by the decedent.
For more information, please see our brochure or contact a funeral counselor!
“Wait,” said Danny, “Is this… legit?”
“Legit,” grumbled Skulker, “and very expensive.”
Danny squinted at Skulker. “You know, I’ve been wondering for a while, do ghosts actually use money, or is it just you?”
The expression Skulker turned on him was as flat as the state of Kansas. No, flatter. As flat as Kansas if someone embarked on a project to make it completely straight, putting it on a tangent with the curvature of the Earth.
(Actually, what would it even feel like to stand on something like that? It wouldn’t feel level, because some parts of it would be angled with respect to gravity.)
“Also, how do you do that with your face? It’s made of plates of metal. I’ve disassembled it enough times to know.”
“Do you have any friends?” Skulker didn’t wait for an answer. “You should go bother them instead.”