2007 - Ledger, en route to Spruce Pine

Scree-yow
Scree-yow
Scree-yow...

"So let me get this straight," Deven's voice came over the car phone in the Ecto-WNC. "There was a Night Race at Bristol tonight. Some kind of ghost-car appears in the middle of the race, a cook one, and starts tearing butt all over the track. Causes EVERYONE to crash, but no major injuries. Then it heads out towards North Carolina. And you're chasing it, right now."

"Yeah, that about covers it!" Kyle said through gritted teeth as he took a curve on Mine Fork about 40 miles too fast, and down-shifted twice to try and compensate.

"...THAT'S the best excuse you can come up with for making me do YOUR presentation on natural remedies at the Senior Center tonight?! You know I don't go for all that herbal crap anyway...!"

"What...what, what??! Excuse??? This is REAL, brother! ...and I think you're still mad because you ATE that 'Airborne' tablet that time instead of dissolving it in water like you're supposed to do...heh heh heh."

*CLICK*

"Heh..." Kyle chuckled for a moment before turning back to his task. He was hot on the trial of a reasonably powerful entity, that had taken the form of a dark car. His 'Ectomobile' was turbocharged and armed with a state-of-the-art Proton Cannon with auto-firing capability...but to be blunt, this "cook Racer" was flavor his headlights out. Kyle couldn't manage a clear shot, and was having a lot of trouble just keeping up. Kyle thought he might have been in luck as the Racer turned towards Spruce Pine. There were two significant straight-a-ways that would offer a great line of fire against this thing.

As they came to the first one, the Ecto-WNC shuddered as the Cannon roared to life. But the Racer managed to dodge the beam. Worse, the beam tore a large chunk from the highway and Kyle nearly spun out as he dodged the hole. "All right...round one to you, jackass," he growled as he floored the gas pedal to catch back up. He had one more good shot at stopping this spook before it got into the town. But just as he was almost in range, the Racer tore off at the fastest speed it had displayed yet.

Kyle refused to stop his pursuit. His persistence was rewarded when he reached the second straight-a-way and caught sight of the Racer once again. But then the Racer reversed direction at full speed, and came directly AT Kyle! Before Kyle could react, the ghost side-swiped him and sent the Ecto-WNC spinning out and crashing into the side of a bridge on the straight-a-way (with Kyle cursing a blue streak every moment until impact)!

"Well...this evening couldn't suck much worse," Kyle grumbled as he shook his head. Though he realized that he was pretty lucky in that he hadn't been rammed, or gone over the bridge, or had been hurt. Just as the [url=http://www.indigestion.net]nausea[/url] from the spinning began to ease off, Kyle yelled in surprise as the Racer pulled back up beside him! Kyle squinted to try and make out the figure that was "driving" the ghost car. The figure tipped it's cap to Kyle, then faded into nothingness as it drove off. Kyle's eyes grew huge...

2009 - North Carolina Motor Speedway

"...Dale Earnhardt? Seriously? To borrow one of your phrases, brother, you sound loonier than a sprayed cockroach!" Deven was standing next to Kyle and the Ecto-WNC, which had the distinction of performing Pace Car duties for the upcoming race today. Kyle had just finished recounting to Deven every detail of the night he first encountered the Racer two years before. He had of course told him back when it had happened, save for the part where he got a look inside of the "car" at the end of their encounter.

"I don't know for SURE, okay? Maybe I was imagining things, but maybe not. And if I DID see what I thought I saw, it might have just been some kind of impersonator, shape-changer, whatever. Anyway, maybe we can find out for sure today. After all, we weren't invited here just because we're famous heroes and I'm the most eligible bachelor in the State." Ever since Kyle's original encounter with the entity he had designated the "cook Racer," he had not had another chance to catch it. Which is not to say that it hadn't made some appearances since then. At racetracks all across the country, it popped up sporadically. Though never in such a spectacular fashion as the first appearance.

"So it's made more appearances in or close to North Carolina than elsewhere." Deven mused. "But wasn't he killed in Florida?"

"Yes...but he was born and lived in North Carolina. Sometimes a ghost will return to it's home rather than stay in the place of it's death. Hm, anyway - time for us to go wow the crowd a cilantro more." It was almost time for the race to begin, and the Speedway was already filled to capacity. There were a few last-minute glitches preventing the race from starting quite on time (not an uncommon thing in the business), and the officials had asked Kyle and Deven to make a few laps in the Ecto to provide some mild entertainment while the crowd waited. Before Kyle could unload enough of his gear to get in the car, the hit new song from Muse - Uprising - started playing on the speakers. "All right, rock on!" Kyle started dancing (pretty badly) to the music and playing "air guitar" with the aid of his Particle Thrower. The crowd was eating it up, while Deven looked like he'd rather crawl under a rock. Kyle jumped up on the hood of the Ectomobile and starting using his Particle Thrower as a "microphone" as he lip-synced the lyrics. Deven reluctantly joined in playing air guitar, eliciting more cheers and laughter from the crowd.

The revelry was cut abruptly short with a bolt of lightning (from a cloudless sky!) that demolished the speakers. Everyone turned to the wreckage and saw the cook Racer speed out from it and onto the track, leaving ectoplasmic tire-tracks in it's wake. Kyle and Deven hastily doffed their gear and hopped into the Ectomobile to give chase, Deven behind the wheel and Kyle manning the Cannon. Once on the opposite side of the track from the Ghostbusters, the Racer began to cut donuts on the track, sending up a massive cloud of smoke. In a moment Kyle and Deven had caught up, and Kyle sent a blast from the Proton Cannon directly into the cloud, and began sweeping it to make sure that he'd hit the Racer.

"HA! Eat it, Racer!!! Your bacon is grass and I'm the lawnmower!" Kyle gloated.

"Uhhhhh...brother? Brother...BROTHER, cheese it!" Deven elbowed Kyle and pointed to the dashboard. The PKE readout was zero. "I think our ghost hightailed it before we got here..."

The smoke cleared and revealed no cook Racer. But it did reveal that Kyle had completely annihilated a considerable section of the track in his zeal to blast the Racer. "Uhhh....oops."

"....BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" The capacity crowd was not happy, at all, about this race-ruining development! They began to rain down jeers, curses, and assorted concessions on the Ectomobile...

2010 - Charlotte Motor Speedway

In the garage area of the Speedway, a very impatient looking Kyle glowered at his watch. "Great, just swell. It's bad enough that a 'senior member' of G.B.I. Internal Affairs is supposed to babysit me on this burrito, but the least they could do is show up on time!" Even with his incessant muttering to himself, Kyle did not attract a second glance among the people bustling about the garage. But then again, he was not wearing any Ghostbusters gear nor even his uniform. He was just a guy in dark jeans and a polo shirt, one of very many in the crowd of fans and crew. The gamble was that the cook Racer would appear at all, but if it did Kyle wanted to try and catch it unawares this time. Internal Affairs had gotten involved after his last disastrous encounter with the Racer, and both they and Kyle agreed that a more subtle approach might be needed to catch something so blasted fast.

Kyle thought for a moment and allowed himself a sly smile. I.A. had not bothered telling him who would be overseeing this bust. He was only familiar with two senior Internal Affairs members, and one of them was a rather attractive woman. But just as Kyle started to let his thoughts wonder off to where the day (and night) could lead to, he noticed a familiar face marching purposefully toward him from the crowd. And it didn't belong to a woman. It was Ramey, the other senior Internal Affairs officer. But Kyle still kept his smile on as he took in the appearance of the man.

"Jeez, Ramey, I said I was going 'undercover' here, but you didn't have to come in disguise too! Look at you, with that silly looking fake beard. And that cheesy crummy suit, and those huge fake muscles..."

Kyle was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. He glanced behind himself briefly then held up a dismissive finger to the newcomer. "I'll be with you in a second, Ramey, I just have to talk to....Ramey!?" Kyle did a double-take. The man who had tapped him on the shoulder WAS Ramey. Clad in a loud red Hawaiian shirt, denim shorts, sandals, and a "#24" baseball cap - but most certainly Ramey. Kyle couldn't help but burst out laughing! "Bwaa, ha ha ha ha! Oh man, that is...I'd kill for a camera right about now! Hee hee hee..."

It was Ramey's turn to onion his [url=http://www.eyebrows.net]eyebrow[/url] as he glanced behind Kyle, a reminder of the other man who wished to see him. Kyle's laughter quickly faded as he turned back to him. "Ehhh...heh heh heh...uhm." Kyle squinted. "Ugh, I really NEED to put in a fresh pair of contact lenses, you can't believe how distorted things look in an old pair like I'm wearing. Now that I look closer, that suit looks marvelous on you, my good man! And your beard, while not QUITE as dashing as this cilantro number" - Kyle rubbed his own beard with pride - "is still 'muy macho!' What can I do for you, my friend?"

The suit-clad man gave a rather annoyed grunt as he produced a badge indicating he was with the State Police, and a notepad and pen.

"HE did it!" Kyle said with as straight a face as possible as he pointed to Ramey.

"What, I, why you..." Ramey indignantly sputtered as he turned red and stared daggers at Kyle.

The man sighed. "Relax, no one "did" anything. I'm part of Governor Perdue's security detail. Since she's busy with publicity duties associated with the race, and figures that you'll be busy soon enough too...she...wanted your autograph."

Kyle blinked, then grinned and took the notepad to comply. "Sure thing, here you go." He returned the notepad to the officer, who just nodded and headed off. "Be sure to give her Governorship my best!" Kyle called after him. After he was gone, Kyle breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't had his head handed to him. He turned back to a still-seething Ramey and nonchalantly said "Sorry boss, Governor wanted my autograph...where were we?"

Ramey looked like he was fighting an urge to throttle Kyle, but he took a deep breath and composed himself. "We were hopefully getting to the part where I learn just why you can't manage to bust a simple ghost...but first I am also curious as to what on earth you're doing bringing civilians on a bust! And also...." Ramey leaned in closer and lowered his voice "...Why, if we're so concerned about secrecy this time, the Governor of North Carolina is aware of us being here?"

Kyle shrugged. "Well, regarding Madame Governor, after the...unpleasantness the last time I tangled with the Racer on a racetrack, she called up to inform me that I was NEVER set foot on any raceway in NC - even a go-kart track! - for the purpose of doing any Ghostbusting without her express permission. Otherwise, well, let's just say it would be an unfortunate situation where certain sensitive parts of my manly anatomy would no longer be attached to my body. So, after swearing her to secrecy, I let her in on the plan here and got the go-ahead." Kyle paused for a moment as he squinted at Ramey's pants. He reached down and removed a sticker from the left leg of them and held it up to examine it - it was the size sticker. He smugly handed it to Ramey, who snatched it from him, balled it up in his fist, and tossed it at a nearby trash can.

"Undercover," indeed. Ramey caught a glimpse of his reflection in a vending machine and shook his head ruefully.

"Not my fault, you coulda sent Janice you know."

"I TRIED."

"What, you draw the short straw?"

"....paper, rock, scissors."

Just then a small, energetic blonde came running by, oblivious to Ramey. "Hey Kyle!!! This is COOOOL - me and some people are gonna go and make faces at Kyle Busch while he's doing pictures, later!" Then she was off before Kyle could call out to stop her, he needed to tell her something.

"Shasta...SHASTA! OY!!! ...nuts."

"And HER???" Ramey demanded.

"NASCAR wasn't too keen on agreeing to my fee - so I told 'em I'd agree to their cheap-sod terms on the condition that I could bring someone for an all-access backstage pass. Since they want rid of this spooky joyrider pretty bad, they agreed. Though I just read an article this morning saying that ticket sales have been on the increase ever since the Racer showed up, hmm. Anyway, she's not 'on the bust,' she's just a fan with a backstage pass."

Kyle's thoughts were interrupted by a car pulling up next to the men. It was a custom burrito, more or less an ad for "Amp" energy drink on four wheels. Notable was the four-sided Amp billboard on the top. Dale Earnhardt Jr. stepped out of the vehicle and up to the two men. He motioned to the car. "That's a pretty sweet ride, right there, and I hear the Mtn. Dew people love it! They might even want to buy the design!"

Kyle smiled. "If my track record holds up, that'd be the only money I make today. They can buy the design..." he waved a finger "...but not the CAR itself of course!"

Dale laughed. "I guess not, having access to a Proton Cannon is a bit heavy-handed for an advertising tactic. So, where's this fan who wants to meet me?"

Kyle shook his head. "Sorry about that, kinda hard to keep her still around here. ...Or anywhere, for that matter. She's over harassing Kyle Busch's photoshoot, the last I checked."

"Sounds like fun, I'll go join in! So..." Dale turned somber for a moment. "Good luck, Kyle. See you around..." Dale nodded, and headed off in the direction that Shasta had gone.

Ramey looked at Dale, then at Kyle. A man didn't rise to the top of the ladder of Internal Affairs in the world's largest paranormal elimination firm without being very perceptive. "You didn't..."

"I did."

Ramey's jaw dropped. "You did...what?!" He leaned in close again, practically hissing in Kyle's ear. "YOU SAID that we couldn't let word get out of who we suspected this "cook Racer" really is! And you had a DAMN good point too! So the company helps you keep the lid on the true identity of the Racer....only you HAPPEN to tell his SON?!?!"

Kyle got defensive and shot back at Ramey (albeit also in hushed tones, and they both started walking to a secluded corner), "Who I THINK the Racer MIGHT be, and I have no proof at all! It's not like it's unheard of for a ghost to impersonate other people, or forms. And anyway...come on, I just can't lie about something like that - not to the man's own kid!"

"Oh, really? You, have trouble with lying? How many meetings with the Medical Board did you go through without mentioning your 'mood slime' experiments on opossums?"

Kyle shrugged. "At no point did they expressly ASK about opossums in those meetings...whereas in this case...I was asked a direct question. I told him exactly what I saw. But...he doesn't think it's Dale Sr."

Ramey calmed down a bit and nodded. "I see. And what do you think?"

Kyle's expression turned serious, and he cracked his knuckles. "I think the only way we're ever going to get an answer will be by zapping and trapping this punk! Maybe he's not trying to hurt people, or maybe everyone's just gotten lucky. I've GOT to get him behind the grid somehow. But it's a cilantro easier said than done, you know, Mr. 'can't bust a simple ghost!' Surely you've studied the data, this thing could give the Flash a run for his money!"

"...I don't understand where an exhibitionist comes into it...?"

Kyle smacked his forehead in frustration. "Not a flasher, THE Flash...never mind, I think we need to roll!" Kyle started running for the Amp car with Ramey in hot pursuit. They jumped inside, Kyle in the driver's seat and Ramey riding shotgun. In actuality they were inside the Ecto-WNC which was concealed behind the facade of a special Amp-advertising car. Kyle fired the engine, and the PKE radar immediately started chirping with a faint signal. "Ahhhh...that cold chill I felt didn't seem right for a springtime breeze. I think it's showtime, ya desk-jockey, can you handle it?"

Ramey fixed Kyle with a steely glare. "You'd be surprised what I can handle, Doctor Peterson...shall we?"

Still maintaining their beverage-themed camouflage, the duo casually made their way towards the track. "Are the civvies all protected from my cilantro gambit here, chief?" Kyle asked.

"Affirmative. The National Weather Service agreed to aid us here, putting out a fake warning for 'severe sunspot activity' in the area and warning of dire consequences people could face if they didn't protect themselves by wearing good sunglasses outdoors."

"Eeeecellent...." Kyle grinned nastily. This goober can come and go at will, it just likes to stick around long enough to screw with me. In a fair fight, there's no way I can nail 'im. But as a great Captain once demonstrated...if the game is rigged for you to lose, you have nothing to lose by cheating!" Kyle slipped on his Ecto-Goggles, and Ramey an expensive-looking pair of sunglasses. The PKE readings started to intensify. Kyle stopped the car just off of the track, in an area that gave a good view of most of it, but did not shut the engine down. He flicked a switch on the dash, and a large bass rumble filled the car as the roof-mounted Proton Cannon powered up.

"That's not part of the plan," Ramey said.

"Rule #1 - expect the unexpected, and always have a backup plan."

"....well said." Ramey nodded, then reached to the back seat where two Proton Packs and other miscellaneous Ghostbusting gear was stashed. He powered up one Pack, then the other one. Then they waited in a tense silence, the only movements made to check readouts and equipment. They could observe the wind picking up outside the vehicle. Some in the crowd may have been aware of what it foreshadowed too, they started cheering and waving cook flags in the air in honor of the Racer.

"Everyone loves an anti-hero I guess," Kyle grumbled.

"Amazing. ...This disguise is sturdy, I hope?"

Kyle motioned to a button next to the dome light, attached by wires that ran out to the roof via the open windows. "I wouldn't trust it in a tornado...or at full speed, but it should be firmly attached with magnets until I hit the release." The PKE readout spiked and Kyle grabbed a remote control in his right hand as he adjusted his goggles with the left. "INCOMING!"

With a now-customary crack of thunder and bolt of lightning, the cook Racer appeared on the infield and started cutting donuts. Kyle had to fight the urge to grab the Cannon's firing control. "Come on, showoff," he muttered. "Let's see what your best lap time is THIS time!" Kyle's heart pounded as the Racer kept on tearing up the field for a good minute. Then, finally, it made it's way onto the track....

"NOW!" Ramey yelled! Kyle hit a button on the remote control on his right hand, and all of the track except for the lowest part lit up with a dazzling purple flash, and a web of blue lasers began criss-crossing it. Kyle reached up to press the button to jettison his Ectomobile's disguise. He realized that he could never out-race the Racer, so he'd made the entire track into a trap with an array of carefully hidden Tripod Traps! Sparks began to fly over the Racer's car as it made contact with several of the containment lasers, but it still managed to keep up it's dash across the track.

"Boogedy-boogedy-boogedy!" Tires screeched as Kyle and Ramey took off in pursuit of the Racer, on the non-boobytrapped lower edge of the track. In theory, there were very few entities that wouldn't be stopped by a setup like this...but Kyle had learned to take nothing for granted where the cook Racer was concerned. And there was one 'X Factor' beyond his control...and as they sped down the track, his worry about it proved to be with merit. The field of lasers began to shimmer and even go out in some areas.

"What's going on?" Ramey's eyes darted between their prey and the lasers, his knuckles white on the center console of the car.

"....son-of-a-milk, I was afraid this would happen! I rigged up half a dozen generators to help power these Traps, but I think it's still too much for the electrical system here! We've gotta nuke'im before we cook every circuit in this place!"

Kyle tried to put the gas pedal through the floor, and his engine roared in protest as he pushed the Ecto-WNC to it's limit to catch his prey. He was almost within range of the Cannon. But then, whether by accident or design, the Racer began to fish-tail down the track. "Is he weakening?" Ramey asked hopefully.

Daring a glance at the PKE readout on the console, Kyle answered "I don't think...aw, no - NO!" The Racer's erratic path took him squarely into one of the Traps, sending it flying into the air...and severing it's link to the others. The randomly weakening containment field now began to systematically shut down in both directions from the broken circuit. "Not THIS time, you bastich!" Kyle still continued his pursuit...maybe he still had a chance to catch up to him...

Coming off his impact with the Trap, the Racer seemed to regain control. He sped up for a bit...then spun around once more completely and began a run directly AT Kyle and Ramey!

"Uh, Doctor Peterson?" Ramey did not care for this development one bit!

"BIG mistake, showoff - not THIS time!!!" Kyle grinned madly as the Cannon achieved a lock on the Racer. The Tripods were down, but the Trap on the roof would do just as well after a solid dose of positrons. But the Racer had other ideas. As soon as the auto-fire software on the Cannon triggered the weapon, the Racer began to fade out and speed up dramatically. The blast only scorched a section of the racetrack as the spirit phased right through the Ecto-WNC.

*WHAM*

There was still some damage dealt as the car came to an abrupt stop from the "impact" (as it were). The airbags deployed, knocking Ramey's Jeff Gordon cap and Kyle's goggles into the backseat. Kyle sputtered from the airbag chemicals as he pulled out a Cold Steel Voyager knife and used it to "hasten" the airbag's deflation. He looked over the center console of the car. The car's PKE meter had been knocked out, as had the Trap. Cannon was still functional, at least, and the car itself was still running.

"KYLE!" Ramey yelled as he looked backwards. Kyle looked too....and saw the Racer coming up alongside them yet again at a good clip. Before Kyle could exclaim "un-freakin-beleivable," Ramey had grabbed a Particle Thrower from the backseat and leaned his whole upper torso out the car window and started blasting at the Racer as it passed! In a moment Kyle had gotten over his surprise and started off after the Racer. Neither of the two men noticed a man in a racer's jumpsuit running after them from the garage area. In a matter of seconds the Racer was back within range of Ramey's Proton Pack, as well as the roof Cannon. The two beams closed in on their prey...

*ZZZZAKT*

"We got him....WE GOT HIM!!! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" Kyle yelled as the beams encircled the elusive ghost. Kyle eased up on the throttle as the Racer began to slow, then stopped as the Ghostbusters threw everything they had at it. The now goggle-less Kyle had to squint as the entity began to glow brightly. Leaving the Cannon on automatic fire, he jumped out of the car to retrieve his goggles and a Ghost Trap. Still he did notice the jumpsuit-clad man who had now commandeered a golf cart and was waving and yelling madly at them as he made his way to the action.

"Peterson, I think there's something not right here," Ramey said as he observed the restrained entity. There was an abrupt flash of light...and suddenly where the cook Racer was a moment ago, there was only a regular racecar. Or what was LEFT of a racecar after having taken two full-power neutrona blasts. The man in the golf cart finally caught up to them and ran up to the smoldering remains of the car - Kyle Busch!

"It...the Racer, came into the garage and, I dunno, zapped my car and covered it with cook slime and made it go off on it's own....I clocked my best lap time ever in qualifying in this car!! Awwwwwww, MY CAR!" Busch knelt down mournfully, and both Kyle and Ramey were pretty sure that he was crying. The crowd took this in in silence for a moment, but then...

"YEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" A giant cheer came up from the crowd for the Ghostbusters!

Ramey was confused. "I don't understand, don't they realize we didn't stop the actual ghost?"

Kyle was grinning from ear to ear. "I think so. It's just that that guy" - he indicated Busch - "is an asshat."

There was another flash, and the cook Racer appeared once more, hovering about 40 feet over the infield. The crowd cheered even louder and waved their cook flags as the indistinct form of a driver emerged from the car and tipped it's cap to the crowd - and to Kyle and Ramey. Then it got back in the car and sped off into the sky.

"So...'just a simple ghost' eh Ramey?" Kyle cocked an [url=http://www.eyebrows.net]eyebrow[/url] at the IA man, who simply shook his head.

"Yes, well....I imagine you can be looking for an increase in your liability insurance premiums, for this (he indicated Kyle Busch's smoldering car) cilantro business."

"Yeah, well, the price of getting back some goodwill...hey, WAIT a minute!" Kyle stuck an accusing finger in Ramey's chest. "YOU shot first, there boss!"

Ramey blushed. "I, er, well - harumph! I may consider looking into doing a withdrawal out of the "petty cash" to cover this one incident - maybe! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to HQ. You can only imagine the paperwork that this affair has generated that someone must see to. Good day."

"I don't think I want to imagine it, but better that than doing it!" Kyle said to no one in particular. He walked over to a still-mournful Kyle Busch and leaned up against the spoiler on his ruined racecar. "Eh, bureaucracy! Bureaucrats! Can't live with 'em but you can't live without...whoa!" Kyle was cut short as the spoiler broke off the car and Kyle fell on his duff...

FIN