Nate and Audrey and The Mystery of The Ghost
Or because this is it’s real name, Audrey and Nate and Like A “?” Ghost Who Was There
Nate and Audrey woke up in the spooky house. Neither of them knew how they got there. There were cobwebs and dust and it was dark and the house made many scary creaks.
The house wasn’t like THAT spooky though. Audrey had been in like scarier places before and was very brave but Nate hadn’t so obviously he was going to be kind of like a scared baby. The creaks weren’t so much “scary,” they just like sounded like falcons and it was kind of cute.
“Oh no,” said Nate, “I woke up in this scary house and I don’t know how I got here. I had such a good life back in Summerland with a boat and an orchard and many many babes to kiss and now I’m here and it’s scary. I hate it.”
He was lying, though. The babes he was kissing were tools from like a shed, he put wigs on them and took them to dances. All of the other boys made fun of Nate with his shovel girlfriends, and he was secretly fine with never returning home again. Also, the boat is his house. He lives in a boat. But he wasn’t going to tell Audrey that.
“I don’t mind it,” said Audrey, “I was living in one of those baths that you put in the sink to wash babies in. I was in a metal one of those and it was under a bridge and my roommates were terrible so this is an upgrade for me.”
Audrey shook her head. “Sorry, I must’ve just had a seizure. Why did I say those lies? I was living in an actual bath, not a baby one. It was very big and spacious, perfect for a hip 20 something and my roommates were no one because I’m a bachelor girl.”
Audrey lit a cigar and put her feet on a dusty table. She had the feet of an old homeless witch with boils and scars and other grosseties.
Audrey then took off her socks, which were part of a monster costume she bought at a Halloween store once, revealing the most beautiful golden feet anyone had ever seen, ones that angels probably have or want at least.
“Hmmmm” said Nate, “It looks like whoever put us here also took your shoes…”
“And I’m glad they did,” he continued. “What beautiful angel feet you have, do you want to trade? I have eyes on my feet.”
“No,” piped Audrey, taking a long drag of the cigar and blowing a smoke ring that clung to one of her grotesque toes, “I traded my shoes for some bread years ago.”
Nate realized then that the grotesque toe in which the smoke was clinging to was, in fact, his own. His eyes grew wide when his toe grew a hand and a mouth and starting smoking its own tiny cigar.
Nate slammed his fists against the table in anguish.
“Ouch! That hurt a lot, because I am very weak. It makes me angry that I am so weak!” he exclaimed, as he slammed his fists against the table once again, and started weeping.
“Good slam,” said Audrey, impressed.
He continued crying like a small baby.
“Oh dastardly dooers, why have you taken us? What do you want?” cried Nate.
Nate began sucking his thumb and pulled out like a baby bottle from his purse, which was definitely a woman’s purse. Nate carries around a woman’s purse.
“Take a chill pillow, Nate,” said Audrey, blowing smoke in Nate’s face and making him cough.
Nate finished his baby bottle beverage very quickly, and the became angry that it was all gone. He threw the bottle against the wall like a toddler having a temper tantrum.
“Ugh!” said Nate. “Where did you even get that cigar?”
Nate was disgusted by cigars because he tried to smoke one once and it wouldn’t let him because it told him that he “wasn’t cool enough.”
“From this box,” answered Audrey, holding out a wooden box that was glowing with an ethereal light. Nate’s eyes became wide with fear.
His eyes were usually wide with fear though, so this wasn’t anything new. Literally everything scared him, like actually everything.
“Audrey,” whispered Nate, “those are ghost cigars for ghosts!!!!!” and with that he batted the box out of her hand. The box cracked revealing a false bottom and a note gently slid out and onto the floor.
Nate screamed because he’s also afraid of paper.
“A note!” said Nate.
Nate picked up the note, but then became self conscious because he didn’t actually know how to read.
He had a clue now and when Nate got a clue he always got to the bottom of the shenanigans. In all his years of being an amateur sleuth he had never blown a case. His awesome detective skills had broken up his marriage with super-model raconteur Lanlia Bondoulais but he knew he couldn’t let love corrupt his talents. “Please come home and make love to me,” she would beg, “my ovum are wailing for you.” But he was to busy with his clues, and mysteries, and trying to figure out why they called detectives gumshoes. She left him in the fall, as the leaves turned to yellow, like pee.
(However it was also his detective skills that had kept them together. In Nate’s constant absence from his wife, she forgot what he looked like, and therefore still wanted him, physically. Then he came home one day and she was all, “BYE.”)
The note was tattered and dusty and Nate accidentally blew some of the dust into Audrey’s face. “Sorry!” said Nate. “No problem, I’m almost entirely made of dust,” said Audrey and she patted her jacket sleeve sending about five early 20th century Liverpool chimneys worth of soot into the air. “Stop patting your sleeve,” said Nate, “I’m trying to read.”
He wasn’t lying; he really was TRYING to read, but since he didn’t know how, it just wasn’t working.
But there was nothing on the paper, save for the yellow stain of age, no matter how hard they looked or how close they got it to the candle. “Let me try and read it,” said Audrey, grabbing the note from Nate’s strong and handsome hands, “oh yes hmmm very interesting it says here that this is a receipt for a steam barge,” she said, passing back the note. “Where does it say that?” asked Nate. “Right here!” said Audrey, pointing to a tiny smudge on the paper. Nate looked concerned and got super serious and handsome. “Do you know how to read?” Audrey hesitated for a moment before doing the most fake laugh ever, like a Santa Claus laugh. “Of course I do, you silly goose!”
Nate smiled to himself, proudly. “Good, now that I’ve accused her of not being able to read, she’ll never guess that I can’t!”
Audrey lunged and tried to grab the note from Nate but he used his excellent vert to jump higher than her. “Gimme that!” she cried. “Eff off, Gandalf,” said Nate, hilariously. They wrestled a bit over the note before they both realized something and stopped fighting.
Nate took a moment to laugh heartily at his “joke” that he just said, and it was really kind of sad to watch.
The moonlight shone through the window in silver-blue rays and when the beams hit the note they illuminated a bright white writing. “Dionysus protects the key,” it read. “Fruits are succulent,” said Audrey, pretending to read. Nate didn’t hear her; he was too busy using his soon to be award-winning brain. While he thought, Audrey began to quietly sing cotton-eye joe.
The strange circumstances were getting to Nate. He was starting to project his own disabilities onto Audrey, who is smart and has amazing hair.
“The wine cellar!” declared Nate, as he solved the first riddle with ease and grace, “the next clue awaits us down there!” He tried to take Audrey’s hand to lead her downstairs but it was just a clump of soot that looked like a hand and it crumbled in his fingers. “Sorry,” said Audrey, “both of my hands are trying to find the baby bird I left in my hair.”
As if on cue, the baby bird fell out of her hair, and into her hand, which was a real hand. It gave her a little kiss on the cheek and attacked Nate for being so rude.