And now, straight from the studios of Specterclean incorporated, comes the heart-pounding, action-packed, undead exploits of everyone's favorite P.I. of the paranormal...
This is the Adventures of Dick Ecto, Ghost Detective!
Episode one; The Wineglass Matter
Friday, March 13th
The rain beat against my window like the hooves of countless headless horsemen. It was a dark night, a stormy night. A superstitious night as well, which was good news in my business. I could really do with a bit of paranormal paranoia here abouts.
The name's Dick. Dick Ecto, for those who haven't heard. Private investigator by nature. I take on those cases that are a little too bizarre for the police to handle. Hauntings, possessions, spooks, those type of things. Business had been quiet recently. A little too quiet for my tastes. Too quiet for my landlord as well, who never hesitated to stop by and remind me of that last rent's bill is still apparently 'in the mail.'
I sighed, and lit up a cigar, leaning against the grimy wall of my less than dignified establishment. I glanced out the lone, long window by the door. The rain was still coming down in buckets, soaking those poor figured huddled under piles of raged, stained jackets. The neon signs above them flickered, casting a wavering red light through the flooded streets. Across the road, the signs prominently declared "Chi Evaluatons" and "Pam Readins" with several of the letters blown out long ago. Next door, there was a sleazy little bar called "The Catscratch." Not exactly the most tasteful of joints, but some of the local undesirables that collect there pick some ripe fruit off of the downtown grape-vine. It wasn't exactly my kind of quarter, but my calling wasn't exactly noble anymore. But it's a living, and someone had to do it. Who was I to question Fate when she pointed her spindly little finger at me and said, "You're it."
The storm let loose another clap of thunder, and my window rattled as if possessed by ghostly chains. Normally I'd be home by now, but the rain hadn't let up enough, and besides, callers often come at strange hours and I'm not at the point where I can turn down a case on account of business hours. An eerie silence settled upon the room, and with the next flash of lightening all my hair stood on edge. Something was going to happen tonight- I could feel it in my bones.
Then, as if on cue, the phone rang. I let it ring once more before answering.
"Ah, yes... This is one Dick Ecto, no?" There was a broad on the other end of the line- nothing unusual. It's usually the ladies that tend to notice something's awry, and don't try to tough it out like the fellas. This one at least seems to be keeping her cool- which was nice. I've spent many a long night consoling dames. This particular client had an oddly thick Russian accent, sounded very upper-class. Good news for my reputation- and my pocket book.
"Speaking," I replied, "Offices for the investigation into paranormal crimes. What can I help you with tonight?"
"Yes, I have a rather... delicate matter which requires your special set of skills. I was hoping perhaps we could meet in person? As soon as possible, as well."