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All About the Anthonys	By : megabsupreme Category: +M through R > Real Ghostbusters Views: 1867 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Real Ghostbusters, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-PART 1
- 2-PART 2
- 3-PART 3
- 4-PART 4
- 5-PART 5
- 6-PART 6
- 7-PART 7
- 8-PART 8
- 9-PART 9
- 10-PART 10
- 11-PART 11
- 12-PART 12
- 13-EPILOGUE
- 12
- 13
That night . . .

The Ghostbusters and their wives all gathered for their last night together in D.C. The couples had all gone to dinner separately, and then agreed to meet in a karaoke bar that Sharon recommended. When they arrived, Neil and Sharon were already there, slow-dancing to a song by Mariah Carey.

“They make a nice couple,” Kel said. “But they’re too young to be dancing to something so mellow. It seems it’s time to spice this place up.” She went up to the karaoke stage and proceeded to set the place on fire with her golden voice.

“Whoa! I didn’t know she could do that!” Peter said. “She almost sounds as good as I do!” Everyone looked at him like he was insane. Janine opened her mouth to say something caustic, but Egon covered her mouth. She looked at him disbelievingly, but he just chuckled and removed his hand.

“Too easy. Not even worth your talents.” She smiled and kissed him.

After Kel’s first song, Sharon ran over to their table. “Hi everyone! Look what I have!” She reached under the table and pulled out several local newspapers from that morning. There was also a copy of the current New York Times.

Upon reading the headlines, the women burst into giggle fits, but the men sat in stunned silence. For the next half-hour, their mood was changed dramatically. Bitterness had overtaken all the male Ghostbusters, except Neil. They were in a funk as they nursed their beers.

Each of the newspapers showed photos from the mint bust on the front page, but little mention was made of the guys except in a less-than-flattering manner. Case in point, the headline from the Washington Post read “Who ya Gonna Call? The Missus!”

The picture under each headline was of all of the six wives, each striking a seriously sexy pose in their mock uniforms. Makeup had been applied to all faces, all zippers had been lowered to reveal varying amounts of cleavage encased in heather grey sports bras, and all hair was down and windswept. They looked like cover girls rather than the focus of a number of featured newspaper articles.

The ladies decided to let it roll off their backs, but their husbands had little sense of humor about it, especially when their waiter came by to see if they needed another pitcher of beer, looked at the newspapers, and said that their wives looked hot. The wives thought this was hilarious, but the men only complained that they didn’t want their wives being ogled by every man on the eastern seaboard.

“Well, excuse us!” Dana said. “We were just following your example! What’s a big, high profile bust without the post-bust showboating?”

“Right!” Kel added when she came over after a bathroom break. “That’s all part and parcel to the ghost biz and we were just keepin’ it real!” The women all laughed again at their husbands’ expense.

Jessica looked at Jake’s expression and stopped laughing . . . a little. “Aww. Sweetheart, didn’t I tell the truth in my broadcast? It was Egon’s plan and we couldn’t have done it without you. Right?” He grudgingly agreed.

“There, you see?” Kel exclaimed. “Now, I’m borrowing my mates for a song. Come on girls! I found a perfect one! Consider it a battle cry for our first united bust!”

The women, including Sharon, all got up to go sing the chorus for Kel, as she belted out the hooks to “Bitch” by Meredith Brooks.

I’m a bitch, I’m a lover.
I’m a child, I’m a mother.
I’m a sinner, I’m a saint.
I do not feel ashamed.
I’m your hell, I’m your dream.
I’m nothing in between.
You know you wouldn’t have it any other way!

The crowd went wild, all the men were on their feet, and there were a fair amount of whistles and catcalls. All the men except the Ghostbusters. They remained at their table, stoic and brooding. Finally, Winston spoke up. “You know they’re never gonna let us live this down.” They all nodded.

Peter glanced down and saw the headline from the front page of the New York Times. It read: “Gorgeous Girls of Ghostbusters, Inc. Foil Phantasm after Boys’ Bumbling”. He decided at that moment that a change of subject was in order. He asked Jake how his revenge plan worked on Joey.

“It worked perfectly, thanks. Eddie and I painted my son’s room and all his toys pink, and we put pink lacey linens on his bed and pink Barbie curtains in his window. I left a note on his bed on the back of one of those pink “While you were out . . .” slips in pink marker that read, ‘Since you seem to like this color so much . . .’ Joey accused his sisters of course, but I told him that it was a ridiculous notion because there was no way they could afford the paint or the other stuff. Immediately after the twins left the room, Joey realized who it was. So he says to me, ‘It was you?’ and I told him, ‘Next time you’ll know not to mess with the big boys.’ He was speechless!” They all laughed at poor Joey’s predicament. Finally, a male in worse shape than they were.

Peter watched the girls sing and shook his head, no longer laughing. “I swear that I will find the perfect revenge against them too! Justice in the name of manhood!”

The other guys all look appalled and threw pretzels and beer nuts at him. They’d had enough humiliation for one lifetime. Jake shook his head in disbelief and said, “You were right, Winston! That is why he spends so much time in the doghouse!”

END

Author’s Notes (cont’d): I got the idea for this story while watching a commercial for women’s underwear. The anorexic model in the commercial claimed to be Susan B. Anthony, and talked about how if she were still on the silver dollar, she’d want to be pictured in this company’s undies because they don’t ride up and theirs was a bra no one would ever want to burn. Aghast, I thought that SBA must have been just spinning in her grave at that crap, even more than when they stopped making her dollar. Then my tangential thinking branched off to how would SBA have felt about her dollar being discontinued? What if a woman weren’t the first choice to replace the renowned feminist and how could the GBs get involved if an angry, but dead, SBA decided to do something rash? So thanks to that ad company for making such an offensive commercial to womankind. It gave me a great idea for a fanfic that was offensive to mankind! LOL

Disclaimer (cont’d): The song “Bitch” is from Meredith Brooks’s CD Blurring the Edges (Emd/Capitol Records). No disrespect is meant to the memory of Susan B. Anthony, Sacagawea, Merriwether Lewis or William Clark. It is the author’s sincerest hope that they are all resting in peace.
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All About the Anthonys