“It’s me sweetie darling, it’s me Ghostly Ellis-Bextor!” and the ghostly girl with the black hair and heart tattoo on her white sheet vanished in a cloud of purple glitter.
The Fluffly Kitty dreamed that same dream every night.
He wanted her disco superstar otherness so badly, in twenty-six weeks of feline life it was the only thing he understood.
#
"You think I have a funny tail?" the fluffy gray kitty named The Fluffly Kitty said as he watched his own reflection in the cracked shaving mirror.
The white ghost shaped digital recorder perched next to the kitty's blanket answered like it always did, “BOO I AM THE GHOST RECORDER,” but it was too hard to compete for the kitty's attention when the stereo was playing Sophie Ellis-Bextor music.
She had what the Fluffly Kitty thought was the best British singing voice ever and the kitty spent much of his free time listening to her and making up kitty dances to go along with the music.
"Why aren't you answering me?" the kitty said as he shook his butt in the mirror causing his tail to sway.
"BOO I AM THE GHOST RECORDER."
The Ghost Recorder was one of the most sophisticated digital recorders on the market and the Fluffly Kitty had found one in a dumpster the year before. Since then the voice activated device had become like a best friend to the kitty.
"I don't know," the Fluffly Kitty said, "sometimes when I am dancing in the park to Sophie Ellis-Bextor musics I feel like everyone stares at my tail."
"BOO I AM THE GHOST RECORDER.”
"Whatevs," the kitty said, “everyone thinks I am weird because of my tail, none of those puppies around the block invited me to go see the haunted house."
“BOO I AM THE GHOST RECORDER.”
“I guess I could take a small catnap first,” the kitty said.
The Fluffly Kitty and the ghost recorder lay down together on the dirty white towel folded on the floor of the kitty’s cardboard box home and went to sleep.
#
“There is no inner ghostliness…
nothing underneath the floating sheet.”From “The Book of Ghost” by Ken Galatzer-Levy
#
The Ghostly Ghost floated into the small reception area of Joe’s office.
"Hi Ghostly Ghost how are you?" the receptionist said, "You can go right in."
The Ghostly Ghost floated through the door of Joe’s office and shook the therapist's bony flesh covered hand.
"So how are things with you? Still no haunting?"
"I haven’t in like a hundred days."
"Going to meetings?"
"I like doing it on my own,” the Ghostly Ghost said.
#
The Fluffly Kitty followed the puppies around the block and down the dead end street that led to the rotting brown ranch house, he was careful to stay far enough behind so that the puppies wouldn’t see him.
The puppies stopped at the beginning of the overgrown driveway.
When he saw the puppies all stop the Fluffly Kitty hid behind some big green bushes and watched them.
A fuzzy white and black mutt wearing a red scarf spoke up.
"Hey Kristy why'd we stop" red scarf said.
"Because," said a chubby brown girl puppy named Kristy, "I smelt that silly kitty’s stupid stink when the breeze blew by."
"I bet that poopfaced furball followed us," said Rounders, a gray spotted puppy with a circle around his eye.
The Fluffly Kitty suddenly sprung from the bushes.
"Hey you stupid puppies! Why do you always act mean to me? I’m just a kitty."
"Exactly," Kristy said, "now leave us puppies be because we got ourselves some ghost tail to bite."
"You puppies think you are the only animals down with chasing ghosts? I could bite ghosts or monsters better than anyone."
"Stupid kitteh," Rounders said.
"On the real though," Kristy said, “I’m not trying to be a bitch kitty. Ghosts can haunt kitty minds pretty bad. It’s too dangerous for you."
"You just like to hear yourself talk Kristy you fat bitch,” Rounders said.
Kristy growled and snapped at Rounders’ tail so bad the whole thing came off in her mouth.
"Who likes to hear themselves now?" laughed Kristy as the tail blood poured out her mouth.
Rounders ran off down the road crying.
"I’m in a good mood," Kristy said, “so if you want to chase ghosts with the major league puppies now is your chance kitty, join us!”
"No way," the kitty said "the only thing major league about you puppies is you're major league bad news!"
And with that the Fluffly Kitty walked away and left the puppies to themselves.
#
The Ghostly Ghost sat on his porch swing and rubbed his sore ghost tail.
He was tired of those puppies biting his ghost tail but they were just little dogs.
There wasn’t much he could do to defend himself. Puppies never got spooked by anything and it was pointless to try and haunt them.
Puppies couldn’t get haunted. They weren't like people or cats. Cats were the easiest.
Speak of the devil thought the Ghostly Ghost when he saw the fluffy gray kitty walking up the driveway. The kitty was cute, despite the fact that he had a lazy tail.
He waited until the kitty was a few feet from the porch and floated off the swing.
“Boo!” screamed the Ghostly Ghost and the kitty was so spooked his fur puffed out and he leapt ten feet in the air.
The kitty landed on his butt kicking up a cloud of dirt and hissed at the ghost.
He spooks easily thought the Ghostly Ghost and now it was time for the haunting to start.
#
“Never give up the ghost and float away into the ghostliness or you will, like, cease to exist.”
From “The Book of Ghost” by Ken Galatzer-Levy
#
69 weeks earlier in Joe’s office:
“Is this your first time in therapy?” Joe said.
“I saw someone before. A ghostly girl actually,” the Ghostly Ghost said.
“And you found her helpful?”
“I went a year without haunting and almost six months without spooking.”
“What did you find so helpful about this ghost girl therapist?”
“To be honest it was just, like, I was in love with her. She had red ghost hair and her ghostly shape was so pretty.”
“And what did you guys talk about?”
“Books, I guess. Just seeing her was enough to make me smile though, she was so beautiful. I guess that was the therapy of it.”
“Well I’m no red haired ghost girl,” laughed Joe while straightening out his brown derby hat, “but I hope that me and you can build a rapport.”
“I hope so,” the Ghostly Ghost said, “I am tired of haunting.”
#
Stupid ghost, thought the Fluffly Kitty as he shook the dirt from his fur, he spooked me good but now he’s gonna get scratched!
The Fluffly Kitty jumped up onto the porch and landed on his four paws.
The Ghostly Ghost floated off the porch swing and over to the kitty, he put his ghost hand out towards the Fluffly Kitty.
“Can I ask you a serious question?”
“I guess so,” the Fluffly Kitty said.
“What happened to your tail?”
“What do you mean?” the Fluffly Kitty said.
“Your tail is weird. Sorry, I meant no offense. Did you have a tail accident?”
“No whatever shut up!” the Fluffly Kitty said.
“What’s that music you were listening to on your Walkman?”
“Sophie Ellis-Bextor, why?”
“No reason, so you’re a gay sort of kitty?”
“No I’m not a gay kitty! Whatevs, is that what you call haunting? You are the worst ghost ever!”
The Fluffly Kitty lifted his tail and peed right on the Ghostly Ghost’s porch.
Then he ran off the porch and rolled around in the grass while kitty-snickering.
“Dirty wet kitty! I can tell you aren’t happy with yourself, think about it, you listen to gay fake disco music, have a funny tail and nobody ever adopted you!”
Do your worst thought the kitty, as he ran off down the road, I’m sure someone would adopt me; I’m only twenty-six weeks old.
#
Ken Galatzer-Levy could hear the Fluffly Kitty meow-crying even from the confines of his tightly sealed garbage can.
He climbed outside and knocked on the cardboard box next door.
"I’m trying to sleep, I have a big lecture tomorrow."
"I’m sad," the Fluffly Kitty said.
"Why are you crying?"
"Because of that stupid ghost. He said I had a funny tail and liked bad music."
"Who cares what some ghost said. He was just taking low blows."
"He was only able makes those blows because there are low things about me."
"Just be quiet and stop being a silly kitty!"
“I’m not being a silly kitty!” then the Fluffly Kitty meow-cried louder than he had before and showed no signs of stopping.
Ken Galatzer-Levy, climbed back inside the aluminum trash can and wrapped himself in dirty rags and newspapers, sighed, and stuck his fingers in his ears to block the meowing out.
He was going to have to find another alley to park his trash can in.
#
69 Weeks earlier:
“So is there anyone you are close to?” Joe said, “like anyone you can talk about haunting with besides me?”
“No,” the Ghostly Ghost said, “No one. No ghosts”
#
The Ghostly Ghost floated through the door to see Ghostly-Locks standing in the kitchen with a weird look on her ghostliness, a look that was framed by her ghostly blonde curls.
“Ghostly Ghost we need to talk,” Ghostly-Locks said.
“What’s wrong?” the Ghostly Ghost said.
“This just isn’t working.”
“What isn’t working?”
“Us Ghostly Ghost. I can’t do this anymore. I’m giving up the ghost.”
“What? You’re going to let go? Go into the ghostliness?”
“What else is there Ghostly Ghost? I’m so sick of haunting but what else is there besides haunting?”
“Please,” the Ghostly Ghost said, “don’t give up the ghost Ghostly-Locks! Please don’t go into the ghostliness!”
“It’s too late Ghostly Ghost,” Ghostly-Locks said and her sheet was already starting to get blurry, her voice fading away, “Goodbye Ghostly Ghost!”
“Wait!” cried the Ghostly Ghost but Ghostly-Locks had already ceased to exist.
#
“I hope you don’t find this question offensive Ghostly Ghost,” Joe said, “But who were you?”
“Who was I?”
“Before you died, I mean,” Joe said, “before you became a ghost.”
“How naïve are you?” laughed the Ghostly Ghost, “People don’t die and become ghosts. Ghosts are born ghostly!”
“Oh wow! I feel like a jerk,” Joe said.
“It’s cool, a lot of people think that about us but the thing is ghostliness just doesn’t work that way and when people die they die, they don’t return as floating sheets.”
#
“Hey kitty! Are you still sad? Because I have some news that might cheer you up,” Ken Galatzer-Levy said after popping his head out of the top of his garbage can.
“What?”
“That singer you like Ghostly Ellis-Bextor or whatevs,” Ken Galatzer-Levy.
“It’s Sophie not Ghostly!” the kitty said.
“Whatevs then I guess you don’t want to know the news then.”
“No I do.”
“Well Ghostly Ellis-Bextor is playing a concert.”
“Are you serious? That is so great. That totally cheered me up.”
“The only catch is,” Ken Galatzer-Levy said, “the show is in Moscow.”
"Is Moscow far from here?" the kitty said.
"It may as well be like infinity miles away as far as you're concerned kitty." Ken Galatzer-Levy said.
"What does infinity mean?" the kitty said.
"Whatever, I couldn’t care less about kittens and their stupid furball problems," Ken
Galatzer-Levy said, "I’m out of here!"
Ken walked back to his trash can and slipped inside without looking back.
"I think I found a way to save myself ghost recorder,” said the Fluffly Kitty.
"BOO I AM THE GHOST RECORDER!”
"It doesn’t matter," the kitty said, "what matters is that if I get to see Sophie Ellis-Bextor
I will be the happiest kitty in the world. I won’t have to be sad about having too crooked of a tail to ever get adopted."
"BOO I AM THE GHOST RECORDER"
"We just need to figure out what infinity means so we can get to Moscow," the kitty said, "Ken Galatzer-Levy is being a stupid jerk though, we need to find some who knows about stuff and ask them, someone who has been around forever.”
“BOO I AM THE GHOST RECORDER”
#
"BOO I AM THE GHOST RECORDER"
"Yeah I know that ghost is mean but he has been around forever and if I give him this bag of cookies he will tell me what infinity means and help us get to Sophie Ellis-Bextor."
The Fluffly Kitty could see the ghost sitting on his porch swing.
"Hey ghost," the kitty said "I want to ask you about something?"
"I'm the Ghostly Ghost. I don't answer questions for kittehs!"
"Please Ghostly-Ghost," the kitty said, "I know you don’t like me but I need an answer to a mystery and you're a ghost. Help me."
"You're right about me not liking you or your weird crooked tail. Ha!"
"Please just help me out stupid ghost. My life could depend on it."
"What is your silly kitteh question?” The Ghostly Ghost said.
"My favorite singer ever, Sophie Ellis-Bextor, is playing a concert in Moscow but this guy Ken Galatzer-Levy said it was infinity miles away. What does infinity mean?"
"Infinity doesn’t matter kitty. Do you really want to risk Sophie Ellis-Bextor seeing you?"
"Meeting her would complete me."
"No she would see you and your dirty fur and crooked tail and be like 'ew that is not the sort of chap I value as a fan'"
"Really?" the Fluffly Kitty said.
"Kitty you must realize that you are a freak. Deal with it. Superstars like Sophie Ellis-Bextor are repulsed by defective tails?"
"Detective tail?" the kitty said.
"What?" the ghostly ghost said.
"You said my tail was a detective," the kitty said.
"Holy ghost!" the ghostly ghost said’ “shut your furry little mouth and listen. I can help you get what you need. The trick is not to meet the real Sophie Ellis-Bextor."
"I don't get it," the kitty said.
"You ever hear about Web Ghost?" the Ghostly-Ghost said.
"No," the kitty said, “what matters what some ghost said anyway?”
"What matters is that you can do what Web Ghost did and find your own Sophie Ellis-Bextor, or really Ghostly Ellis-Bextor.”
"What the in name of kissyfur are you talking about?" the kitty said.
"I'll tell you about Web Ghost and you'll get me. Sit down in the grass and let me tell you a story about a spider. A spider who wished he was a ghost."
The Ghostly-Ghost sipped from a glass of Tang orange beverage on his porch and began his story…
“Web Ghost was the coolest spider ever.” The Ghostly Ghost said, “his name was just Webb but he was always hanging out with me and my wife Ghostly-Locks and he got all into our ghostliness, he wanted to be just like us so he started wearing a sheet over his spider body and haunting the webs, but then he went too far…”
#
Web Ghost jumped into his brown Geo Metro coupe carrying a big rubber tube and ignored Ghostly-Locks’ cries.
“OMG,” Ghostly-Locks said, “You’re just gonna leave me go into some other world?”
“You have a husband bitch,” said Web Ghost, “I’ve got better places to be.”
“Better than with me?” said Ghostly-Locks.
“Mos def,” said Web Ghost, “more ghostly places by far.”
The Ghostly-Ghost came out into the driveway, “Good riddens asshole! Go kill yourself in a car, just like Anne Sexton, go be the spidery Anne Sexton. Just like poison yourself all right just like don’t poison everything okay?”
“Are you drunk?” said Ghostly Locks.
“Yo this tube and Geo Metro aren’t to kill myself yo,” said Web Ghost, “I told you about that kid in East Orange, the garage right? The garage that takes you to Frell? I don’t need to see Ella though I am gonna use the music of Ghostmaster-X and the Geo Metro engine gas to send me to a world of extreme spidery-ghostness. I will find my love and her name will be Ghostly Ellis-Bextor…”
#
“Wait?” the kitten said, “How did Web Ghost know about Ghostly Ellis-Bextor?”
“I don’t think you understand like how far back the power of Sophie or Ghostly Ellis-Bextor goes kitteh but don’t you get it now? A rubber hose and a Geo Metro and you can be with her too. Just like Web Ghost.”
“OMG!” the kitty said, “I better go get ready!”
“Okay see you later,” laughed the ghost.
The Fluffly Kitty ran off down the field.
The Ghostly-Ghost watched him, the silly kitteh, so happy and free, unaware that he was being haunted to death.
#
“You ever haunt someone to death?
It totally rules?”
Ken Galatzer-Levy
The Book of Ghostliness.
#
“I’ll never understand really, why Ghostly-Locks left. Why she loved Web Ghost so much,” the Ghostly-Ghost said.
“You ever think you haunted her,” said Joe.
“What? What the spook are you talking about?”
“You told me that time when she was trying to learn how to sing and dance and twirl around in glitter and…”
“Yeah she had so much fun with that, she loved it,” the Ghostly-Ghost said.
“You said she came home from the glitteriness contest that day and had a trophy and you just like mocked her and were like “Oh what are you the next ghostly disco superstar? The next Ghostly Ellis…”
“What of it?” said the Ghostly-Ghost, “I’m getting the spook out of here." You’re supposed to be helping me not playing crazy mind games.”
“I am helping you, Ghostly Ghost but I’m done unless you’re gonna start being straight with me.”
“I am!”
“Go waste someone else’s time anus breath!” Joe threw his derby at wall, exposing a pink Mohawk, “you faggotfaced piece of shit, I’m fuckin’ Joe-Hawk now and you’re in a whole f’n heap of trouble mister!”
“What’s wrong Joe?”
“Come clean with me Ghostly-Ghost you’re a bully and a faggot!”
“What?”
“You haunted your wife into the ghostliness and now you’re doing the same thing with that fluffy gray kitty that has a crooked tail!”
“Kittens can’t go into the ghostliness.”
“Don’t play your mincing faggot's word games with me said Joe-Hawk, “I’ve been watching you the whole time with my psycholotronic eye you ugly motherfucker!”
“Please stop yelling Joe!”
“The psycholotronic eye allowed me to see your every single move,” said Joe-Hawk
“you totally thought I was like some square but that was just a front, I’m totally going overboard now though. This whole deal is going over the top starting now!”“But Joe!”
“You thought you were foolin' me but I was foolin' you from the beginning you were like my thesis man! My fucking golden ticket!”
“What are you ghosting on about Joe?”
“Ken Galatzer-Levy is famous for writing the definitive book on ghostliness but now my insider’s view on you and Ghostly-Locks will allow me to write an even more definitive book!”
“So what do I do now? You’re still my therapist right? Give me your ghostliness!”
“Do me a favor you lying cunt!” said Joe-Hawk, “Give my book a happy ending.”
“What?”
“Go save that kitteh with the crooked tail! Stop that downward spiral your ghostanormal activity has inspired!”
#
The Ghostly Ghost looked up the crooked tailed kitten under K in the white pages and floated his way to the alley where the kitty lived.
He saw a Jewish hipster guy standing inside a trash can.
“I’m Ken Galatzer-Levy the expert on ghostliness are you here looking for that stupid kitty?”
“Yeah,” said the Ghostly Ghost, “you his friend?”
“No way,” said Ken Galatzer-Levy, “that kitty is a loser he doesn’t have any friends!”
“Uh, great, guess you can’t help me find him then.”
“Of course I can’t help you, I wrote the book on ghosts and I know all about you, your wife totally left you,” laughed Ken Galatzer-Levy pulling a hoverboard from behind his back and hopping on it, “I’m totally heading up into the stratosphere man, but for what it’s worth, that kitty did tell me he was going to Toys R Us, the one off exit sixty-nine.”
With that Ken Galatzer-Levy launched his hoverboard up towards space like a star-skater and vanished into the stratosphere.
#
The Ghostly Ghost floated down the haunted avenue past all the grey and empty buildings on the way to Toys-R-Us.
He wondered what the kitty was doing at Toys-R-Us but before he even reached the store the Ghostly Ghost came upon a barren lot of sand.
A spot he was familiar with.
Back during world war one there wasn’t any men left to play the baseball so the MLB created cat baseball and trained the nation’s best cats to toss balls and swing bats. The felines were given a league of their own.
It was here on this shitty field of dirt and AIDS needles and broken bottles of Mexican beer that the Ghostly Ghost watched the Washintin’ Meows beat the Cincinnati Meow Meow Meows 2-7 in the first feline World Series.
It also happened to be his third date with Ghostly-Locks.
After the game ended and the field cleared he had banged her right there.
For the first time.
Rolling around in the cat piss and shit and pieces of chewed catnip, staining their sheets, so that they looked, to the creepy faces in the clouds, like two tie-dyed shit ghosts humping on a feline baseball field.
They were nothing more than two lovers though and certainly nothing less than friends.
And the weirdest thing was that he remembered, even though it was like 1912 that night, and even Janet Ellis herself had not even been born, that there was this music coming out of an organ grinder's box.
When the Ghostly Ghost had done fucking Ghostly-Locks and his sheet tail spit ectoplasm in her ghost twat he asked the organ grinder's monkey what that super awesome music was and the monkey, who had purple glitter crusted around his lips, and a haunted look in his eyes was like "Ghostly… Ellis...Bextor..."
“Mew mew! Why the hell are you spying on me?” said the Fluffly Kitty.
The Ghostly Ghost floated there staring at the fucking field. He saw the kitten back by the fence.
The kitten sat inside a red plastic car. A little battery powered Porsche like the kind baby human kids drove.
A tube ran from the fake exhaust pipe that stuck out from toy Porsche and ran into the kitty’s mouth.
“Stupid kitty!” laughed the ghost as he floated closer.
He saw that the fur around the kitty’s eyes was wet.
"I’m still here," said the Fluffly kitty.
"You need a real car if you want gas to breathe."
"I listened to you wrong. I’m so dumb.”
“It’s better you didn’t die. How'd you get the money to buy this junk anyway?”
“I stole Ken Galatzer-Levy's wallet,” said the Fluffly Kitty, “what do mean about dying? I wasn’t trying to die.”
“I tricked you,” said the Ghostly Ghost, “Web Ghost didn’t travel into a magical world. He suffocated on poison gas.”
“How do you know that?”
“I was there,” said the Ghostly Ghost, “standing outside the car with a can of Raid.”
“But I wanted to see Ghostly Ellis-Bextor,” cried the kitty with bad tears all over his eyes as he slammed his paws against the Porsche’s dashboard.
“Listen kitty we can go someplace nice to get tea and talk this out. You are one sad kitty.”
“Okay,” said the kitty through his sniffly nose, “there is this nice sidewalk cafe near Toys-R-Us.”
“Are you okay to drive?” said the Ghostly Ghost.
“Sure,” sniffled the Fluffly Kitty, “get in.”
“Boo, “said the Ghost Recorder, “Boo! Boo! Boo!”
“No!” said the Fluffly Kitty, “Never again. I have a new ghost!”
The kitty smashed the Ghost Recorder in his hands with some magic kitteh strength he never knew he had.
Then he let the broken shards of white plastic and electrophonic ghost pieces float away in the summer breeze.
The Ghostly Ghost floated into the toy Porsche and the kitty slammed his paw down on the accelerator.
With that the plastic toy Porsche, with the Fluffly Kitty and the Ghostly Ghost riding together inside of it, sped through the sandlot and towards the avenue, kicking eleventy-seven million tons of dust up into the atmosphere.
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