The quartet of Ghostbusters sat stone- faced in the tiny diner with the mayor of New York City.
The mayor was sweating.
The Ghostbusters regarded him coolly.
Outside the small burger joint, a dozen security men patrolled silently.
The mayor was nearly in a state of panic. "Did you know the Titanic arrived this morning?"
Venkman nodded. "So I've heard, and I bet all the hotels have weird bookings... this being New Year's Eve and all."
"Don't get cute with me." The mayor barked. "Just tell me why all these things are happening!"
Venkman sipped his coffee. "We tried to, Yer Honor. But you wouldn't believe us. I don't wanna get too technical here, but basically, things are going to hell because people in New York act like jerks."
The mayor nearly swallowed his catsup-covered weenie. "What?"
Stantz smiled sweetly at the paranoid politician.
"Imagine an ocean's worth of bad vibes being poured into a small glass, the glass being this city. That's the situation we're up against. We have about four hours before that glass, under pressure from the flow, shat ters."
Winston took the opportunity to thrust a mighty forefinger into the mayor's chest. "Plus, you've got one mean lean Carpathian mother in that museum who is just ready and willing to pick up the pieces and go gung ho."
The mayor emitted a small moan. "And it had to happen in an election year. Well, who is this guy and what does he want?"
Stantz stared at the mayor. "He wants it all In every great social breakdown there has been some evil, power-mad nutball ready to capitalize on it. This one just happens to have been dead for at least three hundred years."
"It's happened before," Spengler informed the mayor. "Nero and Caligula in Rome. Hitler in Nazi Germany ..."
Stantz jumped in. "Stalin in Russia. The French Reign of Terror!"
Winston decided to put his two cents in: "Pol Pot? Idi Amin?"
Venkman turned toward the fidgeting mayor. "Car dinal Richelieu, George Steinbrenner, Donald Trump!"
The mayor caved in, his face resembling a three- day-old Mr. Potato Head. "But being miserable and stomping on people's dreams is every New Yorker's right... isn't it? What do you expect me to do? Go on the TV and tell eight million people that all of a sudden they have to be nice to each other?"
Venkman grinned, crocodile-style. "Naaaah. We'll handle that part. We only need one thing from you."
The mayor nodded up and down, like a Slinky toy.
He felt a sudden surge of relief. Dr. Venkman only needed one thing from him. Maybe the mayor would come out of this looking okay. Maybe next year's elec tion wouldn't be affected.
Then Venkman explained what the Ghostbusters needed.
At that point the mayor fainted.