Casper: A Spirited Beginning Page #3

Of course, O mellow one.

- Now, about this Castor...

- Casper.

Sorry.

How would it look if I, the mighty Kibosh,

let some wide-eyed rookie run loose

without any schooling?

- Very embarrassing, sir.

- Embarrassing?

It's disgraceful.

Almost as bad as losing track

of those three worm-headed deserters.

- What were their names?

- Stinky, Stretch and Fatso, sir.

When I find those slackers,

I'll tie a sheepshank on their bedsheet butts.

- Your blood pressure, O stupendous one.

- I have no blood!

Now, find me this Casper

and bring his sorry, hooky-playing tush

back here immediately!

I'm outta here.

- Hi!

- Oh, hello.

Excuse me, ma'am. Can you help me, please?

Well, of course, but where are you?

I'm over here. Just don't be scared, OK?

Gracious me. Who would

be scared of a little boy...

G... g... ghost!

No! Help me!

I wish someone would just talk to me.

This reminds me, I gotta see my dentist.

Tim, the news is here to record my glorious

speech in front of a flattened house.

- And it isn't.

- I know, Mr Mayor. It's nuts.

One second my crew was raring to go,

then they're hollering "Ghost."

Ghosts?

No, he's just joking around.

He's a kidder, you know.

Tim, ghost rumors have been around

for the past month.

Yes, Mr. Mayor, but most of them are

prank calls. They're kids, drunks, nut cases...

My wife?

And charming, intelligent women.

My wife is very intelligent. It takes her

an hour and a half to watch 60 Minutes,

I have enough trouble keeping people from

leaving this sad town, so ixnay on the ghosts.

Yes, sir. Sorry about that.

- Mr Mayor? We're almost ready for you.

- I'm cool. Everything is cool.

You get that beat-up piece of lumber down

by tomorrow or you're finished.

Hey, Chris. Listen.

Sorry about this morning, you know.

Guess I missed breakfast or somethin'.

Whatever.

You know, I really liked your oral report

about that alien spaceship.

- Then why'd you throw chalk at me?

- That was Danny, not me.

I mean, I loved your report. Right, Leon?

- Yeah!

- Thanks.

Well, you know Miss Fistergraff liked it

better than all of ours put together.

Well, I guess I got into it.

You know my favorite part?

- When that soldier got slimed by that alien.

- That was digestive bile.

Imagine if that bad boy

dropped on you from the sky.

- They got Principal Rabie.

- They're gonna get it.

All right! Who's responsible for this?

Well, he was really just sorta standing there.

- It was him, Principal Rabie.

- Yeah, I saw it too. It was Chris.

- All of you go to my office at once!

- That's not fair.

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