"Flower Show Folly" - Scratch from The Ghost and Molly McGee, allergies, m

[SleepingPhlox]

Sometimes I write normal things and sometimes I write about a cartoon ghost.  It is what it is, okay?

A silly little oneshot about a grumpy blue ghost with an allergy problem. Summary: Pete wants someone to go to the gardening expo with him.  Scratch says no.  Pete distracts Scratch into saying yes with the promise of food.  This turns out to be a Very Bad Idea.

The characters: Scratch is the blue ghost, and Pete is the red haired man.

Flower Show Folly

Pete McGee was rapidly running out of options.

He’d originally planned to go to the gardening expo with his wife Sharon, but when an unexpected GigPig job came up that was too well-paid to pass up, he’d gone to Molly as a backup. Molly assured him that she would totally have loved to go, but she’d already committed to heading up the volunteer committee to paint the fences at the softball park. Turning to Daryl was pure optimism on Pete’s part. As expected, Daryl was on the phone and gave him a perfunctory hand wave, before turning back to his conversation with “Trust me, we can use that as a selling point”.

Okay, Pete hadn’t expected exactly that, but something along those lines, anyway.

This was so unfair. He’d already gotten dressed in an outfit chosen especially for the occasion, worn jeans that had been dirtied and washed so many times they’d started to fade and fray, a flannel shirt over a t-shirt because what could be more outdoorsy than flannel, and a green baseball cap sporting the slogan “I’d rather be spreading mulch”. He couldn’t let all of that go to waste!

He had one more option before he resigned himself to going by himself…

Scratch snorted, guffawed derisively, and tipped a nearly empty bag of potato chips into his waiting maw, to make sure the tiniest last salty crumb would not go to waste.

“Yeah, no,” Scratch grumbled. “Flower shows and me do not mix. You do not want me there. Trust me on that one.”

“It’s not a flower show, it’s a gardening expo.”

“It’s a flower show.”

“There’s going to be really cool power tools.”

“Still gonna pass.” Scratch thrust his purple tongue into the empty chip bag to really make sure he’d gotten every last bit of flavour he possibly could.

“And the catering is provided by this food truck company. They have a bunch of stuff you’d probably like on the menu. They’ve got burgers…apparently they won some kind of award or something."

This managed to grab Scratch’s attention. He reluctantly turned around enough to look at the phone screen Pete was eagerly shoving toward him, but his reluctance turned to unfettered excitement once he processed what he was seeing. No. No actual way! Scratch snatched the phone out of Pete’s hands and gazed, wide eyed, at the screen.

“The Barbecuing Blackburn Brothers are gonna be there?” Scratch shrieked in delight. “They were voted best barbecue food truck in the state three years running! See that? That’s Monstro, their deep fryer. It’s so big, it needs it’s own trailer! Scratch stroked the screen as if he'd just been sent a picture of a long-admired crush. I’ve always dreamed of tasting their menu. Pete, you gotta bring me with you, I’m begging ya here!”

Pete tried his best not to look too self-satisfied. “Well…I mean…if you’re begging, and if this has been your dream, it would be downright cruel for me to deny you this opportunity.”

Scratch was already tugging on his arm. “Come on! Come on! We gotta beat the crowds! But first, make sure you got your credit card with you. Not your debit card, I know you much you got in your bank account, and that’s not gonna cut it. We are gonna rack up some debt, my friend! When I said I wanted to taste their menu, I meant that so very literally. I wanna try everything.”

Pete laughed nervously, and mumbled something noncommittal in response. The important thing was that he finally found someone to go to the garden expo with. They could work out the details of how much of his money Scratch could spend on food later.

*******

They had been on the road for 20 minutes, with Pete chattering excitedly about the plants he was most excited to see, and a really cool watering can he’d heard about that was engineered to spread water 10% more evenly than other leading watering cans, and all the different types of fertiliser he was looking forward to perusing. Scratch wasn’t even pretending to listen, his mind full of thoughts of barbecue ribs, and cheeseburgers with toppings piled taller than his own head, and the award-winning fries with a special top secret spice and herb mix that he had previously only been able to dream about. Not that Pete registered Scratch’s lack of interest. He took Scratch’s dreamy expression, with wide yellow eyes and a huge smile, as rapt fascination with the topic of gardening.

“And the automatic tomato plant feeders are supposed to be absolutely transformative!”

“Transformative…” Scratch repeated dreamily, though the only tomatoes in his mind right now were draped over a chicken burger…but not just any chicken burger. A chicken burger made with a marinated chicken breast, grilled to perfection, and then topped with fresh mozzarella cheese. Not the grated stuff from a bag that never really melted properly, the good stuff, the fresh stuff, the kind that melted into something that was at the same time gooey yet firm. Transformative, indeed. He was going to come away from this experience a changed ghost, he just knew it. He licked some drool from his lips as they pulled into the parking lot. He could smell the smoke from their grill and the aroma from their deep fat fryer as soon as he floated out of the car.

He looked around.

“Lotta crowds here,” he grumbled. “The line for the food is going to take forever. They better not be sold out of anything by the time I get there. Come on, lets go get our eatin’ on!”

Scratch immediately began floating in the direction of the food truck, but Pete grabbed him by the arm. Scratch turned around to look at him with a scowl.

“Come on, Scratch! We just got here. You don’t fill up on food first thing. That’s a rookie mistake. Then we’d be too sluggish to get around and see all the displays properly.”

Displays? What the heck was he talking about? There was one food truck and it was a big food truck, but he wouldn’t exactly call it a display and-

Ohh…

Oh, yeah.

He’d forgotten the beginning of the conversation prior to the part about the Barbecuing Blackburn Brothers, on the grounds of it was dumb and boring, but it all came flooding back to him now.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Scratch exclaimed, hurrying to float in front of Pete’s face to block his path. “Here’s the thing. We need to get out of here, like, now. I mean, we need to get my food and get out of here because I did not come all the way here to leave without an award winning burger or twenty, but the point is, I cannot be here. Flower shows and me do NOT mix.”

“It’s a gardening expo.”

“I don’t care what you want to call it! This is a very, very, very bad idea!” He tugged on Pete’s arm, to no avail.

“Scratch, you said you’d come with me. You begged me to bring you. Please, just do this for me? Look, I know that flowers and stuff don’t go with your whole scary ghost vibe, but I promise not to tell a soul. Okay.”

“That’s not it. Look, the problem I got with flowers is that a lot of ‘em make me-…waaargh!” The rest of his thought was cut off by an exclamation of surprise as Pete grabbed his arm and dragged him toward a series of tents, that looked, to Scratch’s anxious eyes, to cover roughly the same size as a small town.

******

“Hydrangeas!” Pete shrieked, cradling a tuft of blossoms in his hand as it were his own child. “Such colour!” He nodded at the stall holder, leaning one hand casually on the table, and tucking one foot behind the other. “So, uh, what pH level are you growing these bad boys in?”

The stall holder nodded back, with a self satisfied smirk, mimicking Pete’s posture as he leaned in. “Five. Point. Seven.” He drawled back, letting each word roll off his tongue and drip from his lips. Pete gasped in abject admiration.

Scratch rolled his eyes - which were starting to water a little - and attempted to take advantage of Pete’s distraction to go float somewhere else a little less…floral…only to be caught by the arm again and dragged right back to Pete’s side. At least the hydrangeas weren’t so bad. It was the wildflowers a few feet away that he really wanted to avoid. And beyond those…the worst horror of all.

Lilies.

If he got dragged over to the lilies, it was game over.

Scratch sighed, and attempted to see if he could float up and through the top of the tent without being attempted. He got no more than a few feet before being grabbed and yanked back down, and then pulled along unceremoniously as Pete made his way to the next thing that interested him, so the answer on that was apparently a firm ‘no’. He sighed again, and grumbled, and folded his arms. At least this time he hadn’t been dragged to flowers. This was…some sort of watering system. And they were watering tomato plants.

Tomatoes made him think of tomato sauce, which made him think of pizza. He could work with this. He just had to keep his mind on something other than flowers. He sniffled and rubbed his eyes. Tomato sauce…pizza…food…lunch…the food truck..yes, the food truck…all the wonderful treats he was going to get later.

All he needed to was “mind over matter” the crap out of this whole situation, and he’d be fine. Keep thinking…chicken burgers…cheeseburgers…tasty fries…a milkshake…mind over matter...mind over matter...

And, somehow, Pete was still making googly eyes at the watering system. Scratch groaned and pulled at his face in exasperation. Well, at least he’d die (again) of boredom before the flowers had a chance to get to him. Well, get to him too much. His eyes were already starting to itch, and his nose was already experiencing slight discomfort - not enough to be called a burning, but enough to be an ever-present nuisance.

He was actively tuning out everything going on around him, and focusing on his end game here - those delicious, delicious cheeseburgers - when Pete shrieking “SCRATCH!” jolted him out of his reverie. He had a brief moment of allowing himself to believe something good was actually happening, like a llama had gotten into the place and was running around terrorising everyone, or the Barbecuing Blackburn Brothers had started firing burgers into the tent with a t-shirt cannon. Sadly, it was just Pete getting excited about the next booth that caught his eyes. Scratch felt Pete’s grip close on his arm and felt himself being yanked along, and this time he didn’t bother complaining or resisting, he just resigned himself to his fate.

Scratch sniffled as he stared out into the distance. You know what? Maybe it was just better to float around and let Pete do his thing uninterrupted. Might get them out of here quicker. He rubbed his nose. The irritation was still pretty mild, not too bad. Maybe this wouldn’t be an utter nightmare after all.

“Scratch, look! Molly’s been talking about starting a re-wilding initiative for Brighton. If I got her these starter sets of wildflowers so she could try them out in the backyard, wouldn’t she be so happy? I’m gonna get a few seed sets. I’ll get her five…no, ten…no…how many do you think she would like?”

Scratch could not process the concept of seed sets right now. Scratch could not process anything except for the display tray of wildflowers that Pete had just shoved right into his nose. The reaction was instantaneous. Tears filled his eyes and spilled over, and his nose became enraged, protesting immediately against the pollen with all the mucus it could muster. His first instinct was to sniff but, considering the flowers were still crammed right under his nose, turned out to be the most misjudged thing he could possibly have done.

Scratch sputtered out a few nonsense syllables before he managed to form complete words:

“I…I gotta gehhhh…get out of here…”

He turned to float in the first direction that came to mind, the complete opposite direction from the tray of flowers. But his tear-filled eyes made navigating difficult, and he ran headlong into first one person’s head, then another person’s shoulders - both of whom assumed the other had been the careless one, and neither of whom would have put a panicked allergic ghost on their list of likely suspects. He bumped into another person here, the edge of a stall there…and now he was too turned around to know which direction he was heading in, and his eyes were too blurry with tears to be able to figure it out.

Yes, he could easily just go in a straight line and phase through anything in his way, but most of the roadblocks were likely to be people, and going through humans tended to get a little weird. So, unless he wanted to end up accidentally possessing about two dozen strangers, he needed to figure out a better way of getting out of here.

He bobbed around slowly, feeling around with his hands - that was a person, that was a stall, person, person…

“Hahhhh…hahhhTCHOOOO!”

The people in his immediate vicinity looked around to figure out where the sudden shower of moisture had just come from. A leaky hose? Someone spraying the leaves of their display with a water bottle? But no culprit could be identified, and everyone just went back to whatever it was they’d been doing.

Except for Scratch, who was bobbing this way and that like a hapless inflatable pool toy that had been set adrift in a stormy ocean. He was oblivious to the fact that his nose was dripping onto the clothes of the people he bounced into, or onto stall tables. He held his hands out in front of himself, still trying to feel for a safe path to the outside. Person…table…person, person…oh, that one was a plant. Not just a plant, he’d just shoved his entire hand into flowers of some sort. What kind of flowers? Well, that was anyone’s guess. His tear filled eyes were too useless to make out anything but a blur of green and yellow.

“HahhhTCHOOOOO!”

That one sent him careening backward through someone’s display, sending plenty of something-or-other toppling to the floor. What display it was, he had no idea. Pete, on the other hand, had the most perfect front row seat to watch Scratch propel himself through the wildflower display like a bowling ball smashing through pins on a quest for a perfect score. Anyone nearby jumped and leapt back to avoid the crashing and smashing of flowerpots, seedling trays, and equipment, while at the same time confused as to the cause and wondering what might happen next and where.

Pete, having the privilege of being able to see Scratch, knew exactly what was going on. And he needed to nip this little disaster in the bud before it got worse. (Oh, man. In the bud! That was an epic pun utterly ruined by not having the chance to say it out loud so that people could appreciate it. He’d have to tuck that one away for later. Nip it in the bud! He stayed himself sometimes!)

Scratch came to a crash landing at the next stall over. He groaned and held his hands to his head. He couldn’t even think straight, the extreme allergic reaction addling his mind to the point where nothing made sense. His vision was now not only affected by the tears, but the profound swelling that was now taking over his entire face. He felt around for something solid nearby he could hold onto as he tried to raise himself back up into the air, but his hands did not immediately find solid ground.

They found…

Oh no…

“Lilies?” He whimpered. Instinctively, he began frantically wiping at his nose, not realising that his hands were covered in the thick yellow pollen of the about twenty plants he was currently nestled in. He whimpered again.

“Hahhh…HAHHTCHOOOO!”

Pete grabbed him just in time to keep him from sailing off like a deflating balloon into any more stalls.

“Hahh…TCHOOOO! Pete…is that you?”

“I’m bringing you outside, Scratch. Just hold on.”

“HahhhTCHOOOO!”

It was a little hard to hold on to Scratch when every sneeze seemed strong enough to propel him into the stratosphere, but somehow - somehow - Pete managed to get him outside. Meanwhile, inside the expo, people frantically hunted for the panicked cat they had collectively decided had to have been responsible for the chaos.

A confused and addled Scratch felt the jolt of a sudden spray of water that very distinctly felt like it came from a garden hose with a trigger sprayer, and then being vigorously rubbed all over with something made of cloth that was at least soft if nothing else. Then he was snatched up again and he was being carried somewhere else.

Pete opened the door of the car. Yes, he remembered that Scratch was a ghost and unencumbered by little things like walls and doors, but Scratch also looked like he might need a little help comprehending things like where he was, and how everything in reality worked. He gave Scratch a guiding hand to get into the passenger seat, where Scratch slumped like a melting gummy bear.

Scratch heard Pete say “Stay there, I’ll be back”, followed by the car door closing, but he couldn’t quite make out his tone. It was probably angry. Now that he thought about it, it sounded angry. And the door was pretty much a slam, wasn’t it? He was probably in big trouble. Scratch sniffled. He’d tried, he’d done his best to not do what he did, but everyone probably wouldn’t see it that way.

He ran his arm under his nose and sniffled again.

They were all gonna hate him now, the whole McGee family, weren’t they? Even Molly. Maybe even especially Molly. She was so close with her dad, and Scratch had ruined something he was so excited about. He could imagine himself trying to apologise and her turning her back on him with a brusque “Scratch, you ruined my dad’s hopes and dreams. I don’t even want to look at you right now”.

His lip quivered and he sniffled again. This wait was going on forever.  If his fate was to be rejected and abandoned, he just wanted to get it over with.

But...

Okay, maybe if he made a really, really good apology to Pete, this whole fiasco wouldn’t even need to get back to Molly. But it would need to be a really, really good apology. Oh, why was he even bothering considering that as an option? He knew how this was going to end. This was exactly why he gave up trying to make connections, and convinced himself he liked being alone. He always managed to mess it up somehow.

It was just…usually he messed it up on purpose right at the beginning so he would’t have to go through any heartbreak. This time he’d allowed himself to get attached, telling himself it would be different. But it wasn’t different. He was “the worst of the worst”, and nothing was ever going to change that. He was meant to be alone for all eternity, and nothing was ever going to change that.

He heard the car door open.

“Pete, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out in a frantic wail. Maybe he did still have some futile hope he could salvage this, despite himself. “I’m so sorry I ruined your thing.”

Except his heartfelt apology lost some of its effectiveness since somebody rudely talked over him. Sounded like Pete who rudely talked over him. Well now he was going to need to start over.

“I’m sorry I ruined your thing. I’m sorry I-” Suddenly there was a hand on his arm.

“Scratch. I’m the one who’s sorry. I was so caught up in my own wants, I didn’t listen to you. I try so hard to teach the kids that everyone’s voice matters…but I didn’t put that into practice myself today. I ignored a member of the family who was trying to tell me something important. I’m sorry it had to get so bad for you in there before I paid attention to you. I know it can’t really make up for it…but, here…”

Scratch felt something warm with the distinct texture of rough paper touch his lap. Rough paper, of the kind they use to make…

Paper bags?

He felt the object with his hand. And then squinted at it. His teary eyes were starting to clear up and he could start to make out shapes and colours again. Wow, that bag was huge! Scratch opened it up and peered inside.

“I tried to think of what you like to eat,” Pete said sheepishly. “And then I remembered that it’s pretty much everything. So I hope what I got you is…Scratch? Are you okay? You’re not going to sneeze again, are you?”

Scratch was gripping the bag in a tight bear hug, looking over at him with tears - not allergic tears, nor sad tears, but the tears that come from being profoundly emotionally touched - in his now comically wide yellow eyes, his lip quivering.

“No…” Scratch sniffled. “I just…you know…" He cleared his throat. "I mean, hey, would it have killed you to get me a milkshake? Seriously?”

But Scratch was shooting him a grateful smile. Thanks for saying I’m part of the family were the words he still couldn’t bring himself to say out loud, but his smile said more than words ever could. Now that Scratch's vision was clearing he noticed Pete looked...different. It took him a minute to figure it out...he'd ditched the flannel shirt and was only wearing a t-shirt. Huh. Odd...

“I’m gonna eat this on the way home, by the way,” Scratch said. “So it doesn’t get cold. I deserve it, after all I've been through today, don't you think?”

“That’s fine, just don’t make too much of a mess. I just cleaned the seats last week.”

No sooner had the words left Pete’s lips, than a dollop of mustard and ketchup swirled together in perfect harmony dripped from a just-unwrapped cheeseburger and plopped onto the seat in front of Scratch.

“Scraaaaaaatch!” Pete’s voice rang out, as the car made it’s way along the wide empty road on the way back home.

THE END

 

Edited March 8 by SleepingPhlox

[LastCarpet]

THIS IS AN AMAZING STORY
I hope you do one focused on his final curse making them sneeze when they hear the word "toboggan"

[webmeistro]

That was cute😍

[TheCakeIsAlive]

On 3/7/2024 at 8:09 PM, SleepingPhlox said:

Sometimes I write normal things and sometimes I write about a cartoon ghost.  It is what it is, okay?

Okay   

I enjoyed the story.  Thank you very much for sharing it with us. 

[Deuce Williams]

Always a joy to see another Scratch fix from you, and flower allergies are a particular weakness of mine! 😍Scratch and Pete were both so delightfully in character in this story, both with Pete's near-blind enthusiasm and Scratch's willingness to go along with something he doesn't enjoy (and could actively be a hazard) for the promise of food. I loved all the beats this story took, especially the end where they both tried to apologize to each other at the same time, that felt like a true show-canon moment. I wished that Scratch and the McGee parents had some quality bonding time during the show and you certainly delivered! Another excellent addition to the forum!!