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Jan. 1st, 2007 07:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gone_byebyeJanuary 1, 2007
14 North Moore Street
Manhattan
Well, at least he'd left the naproxen sodium and a giant glass of water on the nightstand. Not that either would do much for the fact that his mouth tasted like he'd licked a taxicab. Ray swallowed the first with the help of the second, fumbled around for his slippers, and made his way out of the bunk-room and into the kitchen.
"Look who's finally up and about!" chirruped Venkman, who was leaning against the wall with his coffee cup in one hand. "Hi there, Brighteyes. How're the old vocal chords?"
Ray blinked at Peter blearily. "Why should my-" He stopped; something was swimming up at him out of the depths of memory. "Uh oh."
Winston grinned. "You don't remember, do you?" he asked. "See, Peter? Told you it was a good idea to videotape the party."
"No, no," said Ray slowly. "I remember. I just... can't tell how much of what I'm remembering is waking memory, and how much is Third Rail-inspired dreams. Can somebody fill me in?"
Peter glanced at Egon; Egon glanced at Winston; Winston looked back at Peter. Five minutes later Ray was sitting in front of the television with a horrified expression, and the tape was rolling.
"Al-Hazzzzzzzzzzred said
That is not dead
Whiiiich can eternal liiiiiiiiiiiie
The Aaaaaarab said
That iiiiiiiiiis not dead
Fooor eeeeeeeeeeeeven death may diiiiiiiiiiiiiiie...."
"I gotta hand it to you, Ray," said Peter, "I had no clue your vocal range covered the entirety of Auld Lang Syne so well. Very nice work you did there."
"You've gotta be kidding me," said Ray, who suddenly no longer noticed nor cared about the taste in his mouth. "I sang that?"
"-fiendish songs of griiiiiiiiiiief!
The howwwwwwwwling demons saaaaang to him
Wiiiith fiiiiiiiendish songs of griiiiiiiiief-"
"So it would appear, Raymond," said Egon with the faintest of smiles.
"Oh, good Lord-"
"-demons killed him dead
On a dryyyyyyyyyyy Damascus laaaaaaaaaawn
His worrrrrrrrrds live on
For straaange eons
The Necccccronomicooooooooon-"
Ray covered his face with one hand. "Just tell me I didn't actually summon anything."
"No," said Egon. "We got the chalk away from you in time."
"Oy."
14 North Moore Street
Manhattan
Well, at least he'd left the naproxen sodium and a giant glass of water on the nightstand. Not that either would do much for the fact that his mouth tasted like he'd licked a taxicab. Ray swallowed the first with the help of the second, fumbled around for his slippers, and made his way out of the bunk-room and into the kitchen.
"Look who's finally up and about!" chirruped Venkman, who was leaning against the wall with his coffee cup in one hand. "Hi there, Brighteyes. How're the old vocal chords?"
Ray blinked at Peter blearily. "Why should my-" He stopped; something was swimming up at him out of the depths of memory. "Uh oh."
Winston grinned. "You don't remember, do you?" he asked. "See, Peter? Told you it was a good idea to videotape the party."
"No, no," said Ray slowly. "I remember. I just... can't tell how much of what I'm remembering is waking memory, and how much is Third Rail-inspired dreams. Can somebody fill me in?"
Peter glanced at Egon; Egon glanced at Winston; Winston looked back at Peter. Five minutes later Ray was sitting in front of the television with a horrified expression, and the tape was rolling.
"Al-Hazzzzzzzzzzred said
That is not dead
Whiiiich can eternal liiiiiiiiiiiie
The Aaaaaarab said
That iiiiiiiiiis not dead
Fooor eeeeeeeeeeeeven death may diiiiiiiiiiiiiiie...."
"I gotta hand it to you, Ray," said Peter, "I had no clue your vocal range covered the entirety of Auld Lang Syne so well. Very nice work you did there."
"You've gotta be kidding me," said Ray, who suddenly no longer noticed nor cared about the taste in his mouth. "I sang that?"
"-fiendish songs of griiiiiiiiiiief!
The howwwwwwwwling demons saaaaang to him
Wiiiith fiiiiiiiendish songs of griiiiiiiiief-"
"So it would appear, Raymond," said Egon with the faintest of smiles.
"Oh, good Lord-"
"-demons killed him dead
On a dryyyyyyyyyyy Damascus laaaaaaaaaawn
His worrrrrrrrrds live on
For straaange eons
The Necccccronomicooooooooon-"
Ray covered his face with one hand. "Just tell me I didn't actually summon anything."
"No," said Egon. "We got the chalk away from you in time."
"Oy."
