Fan: Identity Thief

Chapter I
For the forty-third time that year, Johnny Ghost and Johnny Toast brought their extermination gear to the Acachalla's neighborhood.

"Why do we always get stuck with these kinds of jobs?" Ghost groaned. "We're paranormal investigators, not pest control!" Driving the Ghostmobile at breakneck speed, Toast peeled his eyes from the road ahead.

"Because, sir, I think toxic rats from the Thirteenth Dimension counts as paranormal entities." Toast shifted his gaze to the signpost he had just narrowly avoided. "Do you think anyone else could deal with these sorts of problems?" Ghost knew he was right, but he hated being wrong, possibly more than he hated unnecessary work.

"I just don't understand why the Acachalla's can't deal with their own messes! I swear, we get more calls from Gertrude than all of Europe combined!" Ghost punched the dashboard in frustration, causing the cheap, worn plastic to shatter. Toast laughed as the airbag exploded in his face. Glancing through the window of the Acachalla household, Toast saw a fat, bald figure loading a shotgun.

"I'm afraid if we arrived any later, they might have tried. Of course, we all know how that goes, don't we sir?" Climbing out of dingy blue van, the duo seemed oblivious to the crowd of people standing across the street. Slinging their bags across their shoulders, the pair of P.I.E. executives set out to do their work.