Chapter Text
‘Iiiiiit’s Showtime!’
‘Be-at-lejuice please.’
‘Sorry Jacques. I’m just so excited!’ A ghost with dirty blonde scruffy hair beamed at his skeleton roommate. He was dressed in his usual black and white striped suit, which complimented a magenta shirt and loose black tie underneath. Beetlejuice was a self-proclaimed ghost with the most. He possessed magical abilities far beyond walking through walls and levitation. He could shape-shift into almost anything and dismember himself without injury or consequence. No-one knew why he was so powerful; even he didn’t know... not that it stopped him from enjoying himself. The trouble was, Beetlejuice was a menace. His roommates and neighbours often saw the brunt of his ‘juicing’ as he called it. He was the Neitherworld’s best (or worst depending on what way you looked at it), at pulling pranks. He showed no remorse for his actions at all and while it had landed him in hot water more than once, he always seemed to come out on top eventually. He was a jerk with a big heart but he hardly ever showed this side of him to anyone – except one person. Lydia Deetz.
The poltergeist had met the lonely goth girl nearly six years ago when she had moved into a new house with her father and stepmother. Her father Charles had moved up from the big city due to frazzled nerves after a nervous breakdown. His doctor had suggested a move to a small quiet town in the country would do him good, so the family had upped sticks and moved. Delia, his wife was a sculptor and artist and able to continue her work. She was a flamboyant albeit slightly ditzy woman who constantly struggled to connect with her stepdaughter. Lydia was a polar opposite of her, and it bothered her. The girl didn’t have very many friends and spent nearly all her spare time in her room. She was a passionate caring girl who loved photography and all things dark and spooky. Her wardrobe was full of black clothes and her raven hair made her pale skin appear sometimes almost white. She was sad, alone and misunderstood... then she met Beetlejuice, an outcast in his own world and if honest with himself, just as lonely. The connection between them wasn’t instant. It had taken time and effort but something about them intrigued the other. Beetlejuice was a disgusting smelly beetle-eating trouble maker, but he was also Lydia’s laughter and friendship- while she was his level headed voice of reasoning. Together they had shared many adventures together, some in the Neitherworld, some in the world of the living and they were now still best friends on the day of Lydia’s eighteenth birthday.
Beetlejuice stepped back and admired his handiwork. The roadhouse was barely recognizable. Every inch of it was covered in balloons and banners with emblazoned messages such as ‘Happy Birthday,’ and ‘Happy 18th.’ Paper chains, party poppers and literally anything you could think of was either hanging up or floating nearby. A large table had been pushed against one end of the room with a birthday themed cloth with more food than could ever be eaten, a large bowl of punch and in the centre of the table a huge birthday cake with the words: ‘Happy Birthday Babes,’ inscribed in icing on the top. His lopsided grin grew wider and he clapped his hands together.
‘Beetlejuice it looks fabulous!’ came a voice from the doorway. The New York accent told him it was his other roommate Ginger. The large pink spider clasped her hands together in appreciation.
‘I got snacks for everyone as well,’ said Beetlejuice proudly. Here ya are Ginger. Freshly caught this morning.’ He dipped into a bowl and tossed a few dead flies in her direction. The spider's eyes lit up.
‘Oh, Beetlejuice. That’s so thoughtful.
‘Ah oui,’ exclaimed Jacques. ‘It is unlike you to be so considerate Beetlejuice.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ snorted the ghost indignantly. ‘I’m the nicest guy in this dump, besides I want everything to be perfect for Lyds tonight.’
‘She’s defiantly coming?’ enquired Ginger as she downed another fly.
‘Well of course!’ snapped Beetlejuice. ‘I gave her plenty of warning.’
‘You told ‘er three months ago mon ami,’ said Jacques. ‘She may have forgotten.’ Beetlejuice laughed loudly.
‘How could she forget her own birthday? Oh, Jacques, you crack me up.’ At the last three words, his whole body became covered in cracks and a second later he fell to the ground like shattered glass. The next second there was a pop and he was back to his old self again. ‘Well,’ he smiled checking his watch. ‘She should be back any second now. I’m gonna drop by quickly and check. See ya.’ With another pop, the ghost vanished. Jacques and Ginger exchanged worried glances.
‘I ‘ope she has not forgotten,’ said Jacques after a pause. ‘Beetlejuice has really put a lot of effort into this.’
‘True,’ said Ginger eyeing the bowl of flies longingly. ‘I think he’s as excited as her...’ Then she shook her head as if to dissipate their concerns. Beetlejuice and Lydia were best friends after all. What was the worst that could happen?