The chase ends up with PJs hitting a dead end. (Yet somehow escapes)

The chase was on, and his journey of weaving between the throngs of city-goers like a snake had led him to hightail it through the park close by. This would serve as a bad move, as he heard the sound of a pink jeep revving away behind him. How’d he know it was pink? Why, because of how he caught a glimpse of a pink blur as he dove out of the way before it collided into his stick figure form.

Luckily the dive took him into the park bathroom, providing cover by the sudden burst of holy gunfire that preceded him like a swarm of loud holy bees.

He ran to the end of the filthy bathroom, frightened for his life and also a little concerned that he might've stepped into something nasty from doing so. This was it. He was trapped. No way out of this place. He’s not like a super strong ghost that could bust open a wall, or a ghost that could phase through things. Here in a dirty public bathroom, he was about to make a couple of angels rich, after having his body sliced into tiny pieces by demons. Cruel cruel irony just made his life a Hell on Earth.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, seeing the radiating rings that made up his glowing ectoplasm under a black shell. He sighed deeply in reminiscence, trying to think of where he went wrong as his life flashed before his eyes. Once was bad enough, but reruns were out of line.

He slammed his hands on either side of the dirty mirror, saying to his reflection, “I just wanted to live a nice life! I had ambitions! I wanted to be rich, live in a fancy penthouse, but no! I can’t have that, can I?! Was it so wrong to expect things to go up in the world for ol’ PJs?”

His arms slumped to his sides, as he heard the jeep park outside the door. “I wish…” he started as he hunched over the sink, “I wish that I had that kind of lifestyle…”

All of a sudden, his chest began to feel warm, a sensation that he hasn’t felt in a while. Like feeling warm and cozy on a cold winter’s eve. Looking back up to the mirror, he saw the sickly yellow that filled him turn a minty green. And with that feeling and shift in color, he was gone, removed from the bathroom with a slight audible pop.

Right on time, as a bullet went sailing into the spot where he once was, cracking the mirror into pieces.

“Oh fuck off, where’d he go now?” The newly arrived Panty complained, not seeing the moment he popped out of the room.

–––

With a thump, PJs fell rear-first into a very plush sofa. This feeling of sudden comfort rendered him stunned. Looking from his cozy position, he saw windows all around him with a clear view of Daten City’s skyline, a bunch of fancy art deco furnishings, and a sprawling balcony with a large pool and Jacuzzi tub. Even a dang helipad! The markings of a fancy penthouse.

He couldn’t believe it, he was both safe and gotten what he wished for! Was this…really all his? He checked his personage, noticing that the warmth began fading along with the green coloration, and felt a wallet in what he assembled to be a back pocket in his form’s approximation of a uniform. Checking it, it’s indeed the wallet he kept when he was alive, but the contents were very different. PJs’ ID photo was now of his ghost form, a bunch of fancy credit cards, and a wad of bills that almost made him pass out by the brief counting he did.

It was true, somehow his wish was granted. But how? Was this some kind of innate ghost power he had? Perhaps there was some kind of genie in one of the bathroom stalls. It was when he felt the feeling of warmth finally give out towards a focal point in his chest that he realized what it was. It was the rock! That’s why the trench-coated ghost was saying all those vague things about wishing! This stone must have some kind of magical properties to it, that’s how he was able to get this fancy penthouse. Looks like his turn for the unfortunate turned into a case of being super lucky to have this thing stuck in his body, though it’ll take some getting used to having “A heart of stone,” he chuckles to himself.

Though wait a minute. If he has the power to wish for anything, PJs assumes that he may be able to get ****. Sweet, delicious **** against both the angels and demons that ruined his former life!

To do a quick test, he looked behind him, and noticed the large wall-mounted TV taking up a large amount of space. He swears the thing is as tall as he is. Switching places in the couch pit (PJs always wanted a couch pit), he faced the TV and made a wish.

“I wish this TV allowed me to spy on the angels and demons that I want to see.”

The rush of the wishing rock flowed through him again, sending happy pleasurable tingles all along his ghostly form. The minty green returned to his body, it almost felt like being alive again with just a single wish. PJs can get used to this sensation.

And with that, the TV flickered to life, showing a movie quality angle of the two angels in their pink jeep. Stocking was slouching in the back seat, flipping through a magazine, while Panty was grumbling at the driving seat. PJs could hear her mumblings being a string of curses, and saying that there shouldn’t be any way she lost “That skinny piece of shit.” Her words.

So that confirms to PJs that it isn’t a rewriting history kind of reality alteration, so that means his fun in messing with them will be all the sweeter when the look of panic and confusion crosses their face.

With a thought, the TV switched over to the view of the Demon Sisters, Scanty and Kneesocks. The scene portrayed the red-skinned, beige-uniformed demons lounging around a dark gloomy office, seemingly really bored. PJs nodded that he was glad that it does switch the subject on a whim, though the dialogue the sisters were having was intriguing.

“Ugh, I hate waiting!” Said Scanty, slumped over the desk like a sleeping cat, “Can we just hurry up and get our new boss already? People are already suspecting their mayor to be missing, and I can’t keep wearing that disguise he left behind forever!”

That was interesting, the girls are just running things themselves? And what happened to the mayor, then?

“Patience, dear sister,” Sighed Kneesocks, turning the page to her hardcover book while sitting in the uncomfortable-looking office chair, “This is our first boss reassignment, we have to make this a decent first impression.”

“Yeah, I’m aware, everything for the welcome party is already set up! Just the anticipation is wracking at me!” Scanty sat up and writhed on the desk in emphasis, “Are they going to be as ruthless, or not as much? Do they have a plan? Are we going to have to masquerade as their daughters again? Maybe they don’t feel like wearing the Corset disguise and need us to rig a new vote for her disguise instead? Oh the tension!” She collapsed back down on her back in a mock-faint.

Kneesocks merely shrugged, affixing her spectacles, “Who knows, Scanty, who knows. It’s not like we had the personnel file sent in or anything.”

Scanty squinted dubiously at her sister, “Did we get such a report?”

Kneesocks snapped her book closed and scowled at the corner out of camera shot, “We did, until a certain someone felt it was merely a scam email and deleted it, Fastener!”

PJs was quite interested, a new boss? This was going to be an interesting time indeed. For one thing, it means that not only can he sully the Demon Sisters’ reputation, but also he can make them look bad in front of the new management! This was a delight to hear!

“Ah, but whom to torment first?” PJs asked himself. He could mess with the demons now and have their first introductions ruined, or he could wait for this new boss by messing with the Anarchy Sisters until this new boss arrives and start humiliating the Demons at that point.

Decisions, decisions…