“Type it in, Lydia,” Delia whispered dramatically. “For closure.”
As they sank into the floorboards, the laptop’s webcam flicked on. A live stream titled “Beetlejuice 2: LIVE from Lydia’s Living Room” appeared on a dozen shady movie sites. The view count: 123.
He snapped his fingers. A window popped open on the laptop: BEETLEJUICE 2: THE SANDWORM CHRONICLES. The thumbnail showed a cartoon Beetlejuice riding a sandworm like a rodeo bull while a badly Photoshopped Charles Deetz looked on.
“Trap?” Beetlejuice looked offended. “It’s a marketing strategy . I need a comeback. The afterlife’s got new ghouls—slick ghosts with podcasts, demons with skincare routines. I’m a relic. So I made a fake sequel trailer, uploaded it to every ‘123 Free Movies’ pirate site I could haunt, and waited for a Deetz to bite.”
Beetlejuice winked at the camera. “See? Free movies always come with a catch. The catch is me .”