 Happy Thursday everybody. At least, I hope it is for you. For me, eh, not so much. We’re starting day four of our four-day forced lock-in at a haunted location. I’m beginning to think that my life is really nothing more than my penance on earth.
Allow me to explain. Over the course of last weekend, we (that being me, Cousin Fred, the Ghost Hunting Hairdressing Hydrologist Gigi, and Friend Lamont) found our hook for our new television pilot. You know that show on television where two people plus Rob the Camera Dude lock themselves away for 72 hours in a haunted location and provoke ghosts and spirits to interact with them. They come out of those places after 72 hours looking like death warmed over. Cousin Fred made the statement, “Those guys are lightweights and doing it all wrong!” Cousin Fred went on to explain that we needed to extend that stay by another 24 hours, making it a 96-hour lock-in. In fact, that led to Cousin Fred declaring that would be the name of our new show, “96.” Catchy, don’t you think? No? Well, it’s a working title anyway. I asked Cousin Fred if he had a plan for a location. Keep in mind that at this point, we had asked a couple of landowners in the area if we could lock ourselves inside of a couple of old and decrepit homesteads around here. One pointed out that there weren’t any locks on the doors as the termites had pretty much eaten away the door frames and just about anything else. The other said that he preferred to leave any ghosts that might be residing in his ancestors’ home alone and pulled a 12-gauge from inside his pick-up to make his point. That’s when Cousin Fred came up with an idea…seldom a good thing. For whatever reason, there is an old hospital in Cosmic City that has stood the ravages of time pretty much intact. Seriously, this place hasn’t been used as a hospital since maybe the early 1950s. In fact, the hospital that replaced it has been rebuilt twice and still the old hospital stands. There’s a move by lunatic preservationists to preserve the building, have it declared a memorial to superior brick work (I guess) and prevent anything from being done with the building or its lot. I pointed out that over the years there had been a few ghost hunters go through the place, but with no results. Cousin Fred responded that those people were obviously amateurs and we were better equipped. He pointed out that with the windows boarded up in the place – mostly to keep the kids out of there – we would have 96 hours of lock-in in complete darkness to do our spirit seeking. Cousin Fred says we need to stop using the term ghost hunting and start using spirit seeking because that will put us on a higher tier than those “lockdown dummies.” Sheesh. So we entered the place on Monday, without permission, of course, and have now been inside since Monday morning. I have to admit, we got some good video over the course of the first couple of days. Cousin Fred, working with a spirit box that picks up ethereal voices out of white noise, came across the spirit of a doctor, named Bennie, who practiced here for a while in the 40’s. The hardest part has been learning to react to whatever we pick up over the spirit box. That took some off-camera coaching on the part of Cousin Fred. “Now, listen. Whenever we get the least little bit of response over this stupid box, I need everyone to look directly into the camera all bug-eyed and mutter things like, “What the hell is that?” or “Oh my God, did you hear that?,” got it? Okay, let’s roll camera.” So with Friend Lamont filming with a video camera set to capture any available light, Cousin Fred, Gigi, and I huddled around the spirit box. Cousin Fred: “Hello, Bennie? Are you here now? Speak to us if you are.” Static. More static. Still more static. Then, “Yes.” That was followed by me looking as bug-eyed as possible directly into the camera, “What the hell was that?” Gigi responded by pulling her t-shirt up over her head to cover her eyes, exposing her breasts, “Oh my God, did you hear that?” Cousin Fred smiled. Cousin Fred: “You were a doctor here?” Static, more static, still more static. Bennie: “Yes, proctologist. Didn’t work out though.” Cousin Fred: “Oh, why not?” Static, more static, a few pops. Bennie: “Too depressing. So many a**holes, felt like I always had the end in sight!” More bug-eyed looks into the camera. I’m thinking, great, we’ve dialed up the ghost of Rodney Dangerfield. Then, there was a loud bang against one of the boarded up windows. Cousin Fred ran from the room screaming, “They’re among us. They’re out of the box. Run for your life!” Bug-eyed looks into the camera. More on 96 tomorrow! That is all! Comments are closed.
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