Chapter 3: Let's Get it Started (Mwahaha!)

Katherine enters the early stages of her latest evil scheme, while her kids pretend to keep up the villain act as they bide their time.

The twins' routine had been pretty static ever since they ascended to the heavens, a voyage they were surprised to have taken, given the inexcusable things they'd done on earth. Day after day they'd wake and freshen up, and then at their mother's behest, go out into town and stir up some trouble until they got bored. But thankfully they'd have evenings to chill, and once in a blue moon, they'd even be given the whole day to do so. Katherine had suggested that the twins do some nighttime crime sprees, but to hell with that.

Days after their interesting discovery, the twins kept a low profile within Seymour Manor. Mike Jr. spent his whole day video gaming in his room and cramming his face with heaps of diverse leftovers he'd glommed from the fridge, not bothering to reheat any of them. Had he done so while he was still alive, he probably would've gotten an earful from his sister about the bacterial risk, but that was just one of the perks of being dead.

"Whoo man, I can't believe I slept on this game for so long!" Mike Jr. mused, jackhammering the buttons on his controller. "I don't think there're any other chicks who have guns built into their high-heels! …well, except maybe Lauren Boebert."

"Junior!" Josephine's voice rang in through the closed door, increasing in volume as the syllable became taffy in her larynx. She didn't hesitate to barge into the room, holding a basket of monochromatic laundry.

"Geez, could you be more shrill? And more conscious about knocking? Heh, and I thought I was rude…"

"Shut up! After that stunt you pulled, you don't deserve common courtesy!"

"And what oh so terrible thing did I do this time?" Mike Jr. rolled his eyes as he paused the game. At this point, he was completely numb to his twin's scolding and rants.

"You had the nerve to throw your red gym shorts in with my denim load, and now it's all purple!" Josephine snarled, holding up a violet pair of jeans. "Props for partially dodging a cliché, but I'm afraid that won't save you!"

"Now now, don't let's be hasty. All your brother was trying to do was get some evil in for the day," Katherine interjected, strolling into the room as well.

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

"Yeah, sis. I was just trying to do something bad." Mike Jr. smirked, knowing his words were untrue.

"Plus, it was an act of mutiny, so kudos on that," Katherine continued. "Now I say you two have lazed around enough today. Time for some more misdeeds!"

"Aw, really? But I'm sick of doing those."

"Doesn't matter. If you two don't brush up on being bad, then how can you expect to be ready for what lies ahead?"

"What do you mean 'what lies' ahead'?" Josephine cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Hey, I'm a villain. I don't give straight answers." Katherine turned back to the door, starting to head out. "Now run along and do something. I don't care if it's robbing a weed farm, pushing elders down flights of stairs, or just prank-calling people. Get to it before dinner!"

With that, she closed the door, leaving the room bathed in silence for a bit.

"Sheesh, I thought she'd never shut her trap." Josephine scowled, folding her arms.

"So, uh, prank calling it is, I guess?" Mike Jr. shrugged, putting his game console in sleep mode.

"Fine, but not in here. I'm struggling not to gag from the smell of cold Moroccan food."

---

Over in the living room, the twins sat in armchairs on either side of a small table containing a landline, one of many outdated forms of technology that were ubiquitous throughout the afterlife. Mike Jr. took his turn dialing a number, pulling from a phonebook that covered nearly half the state. Answering the phone was an aging Russian male, who was busy dusting a fancy foyer before he was interrupted.

"Simmons residence," he said.

"Hey, mind if we speak to, uh… Ryan and/or… Leslie?" Mike Jr. asked, pinching his nose.

"If you must."

It took just over a minute for the phone to change hands, during which the sounds of footsteps and mumbling could barely be detected.

"Hello, Ryan Simmons speaking, and no I am not related to J.K. Simmons. Who is this?" an old man with feathered, light brown hair picked up the phone, in a rather dubious mood.

"Er, that's not important… but what is important is whether or not your stovetop is running," Mike Jr. continued, ignoring the filthy look his sister gave him.

"How should I know? Our butler's in charge of maintaining the kitchen."

"Well then you should tell your butler to go catch it! Hahahaha!"

"Ugh…" Ryan groaned, hanging up as he angrily tossed the receiver onto his bed.

"Ow, hey! That hurt!" an old woman with reddish-brown hair yelped, wearing a skimpy silk nightgown. "…which actually is pretty hot."

"Oh man, that was priceless!" Mike Jr. guffawed, slapping his knee. "Talk about taking me back!"

"Sure, priceless… by rookie standards, that is. Gimme that!" Josephine snatched the phone from her brother, hurriedly dialing a number and clearing her throat as she heard ringing on the other end.

Answering the home phone was Ike, the leader of the task force that the twins had encountered earlier. He was sprawled out on the living room couch as he watched a movie marathon, a large bowl of chocolate popcorn nestled on his stomach as beer cans both empty and full stood on the carpet nearby.

"Hello?" he asked, his speech slurred a bit from the snacks jammed in his mouth.

"Ello, gov'nah! It's me, Amy Winehouse!" Josephine spoke in a crude Cockney accent, as her brother snickered.

"YOU!" Ike bolted up from the couch and balled his free fist, paying no mind to the spilled refreshments. "You've got some nerve trying to contact me, you overrated, miserable-!"

"Now, is that what you think I am?"

"Yep, with a capital C!"

"Well regardless, you'd better stop making jokes at my expense, yeah? Cos' if you keep this s**t up, I might go an' loot that pub you like to frequent, and steal every drop of booze I can find!"

"You're crazy!"

"Says the one who fell for this prank!" Just like that, Josephine hung up, sharing a rare, gut-busting laugh with her twin as they both fell out of their seats.

"Hmph, should've known that wasn't actually her," Ike grumbled, plunking himself back onto the couch. "If it really was, there would've been a lot more swearing and maybe a threat of violence."

"Oh man, hate to say it, but that just might've been even more priceless than mine!" Mike Jr. pounded his fists on the floor as he laughed.

"Hmph, naturally," Josephine scoffed, back to her usual glare as she dusted herself off. "Only flaw I noticed was how I pranked the guy whose help we might need later."

"Aw, relax. You didn't break the accent, so he probably won't recognize you."

Peeking in on her children in the middle of their long-distance prank war, Katherine discretely chuckled to herself before strutting into the deeper recesses of the mansion. She made her way to the study, booting up the second newest model of desktop as she started searching through a criminal database.

"Okay, they're distracted with their training. Now the real work begins," Katherine mused.

---

For a while, there was near-complete silence, not counting the tiny clicks that flooded the room as her long, apple red nails collided with the keys, mixed in with the occasional puff from her vintage, six-inch-long cherry red cigarette. Taking another drag, she leaned forward, letting her narrowing pale gray eyes melt into the screen. A bit of a growl escaped her apple red lips as she clicked on the records of many different notorious criminals who had all died somehow, but it seemed the vast majority of them had already reincarnated.

"Damn it, how hard is it to find some assistance around here?! I just want to kick off our dastardly plot! The same one Mike and I conceived before I died!" Katherine grumbled, rubbing her temples as she rolled her chair backwards a bit.

Deciding to take a quick break from her search, she turned to the shelves behind her and looked over two framed pictures. One was from high school, in which she and Mike were a quarterback and a cheerleader respectively, both grinning at the camera in their ivory and green uniforms. She couldn't help but smile at this one, noting the bright outlook reflected in his teal eyes despite the unfortunate incident that had brought them together, in the form of his many injuries at a previous game. The second photo showed them in a hospital room, holding the newborn Mike Jr. and Josephine as they shot cautiously optimistic looks at the camera. By that time, the cute bleached-blonde bowl-cut he used to rock in his youth was now a butch cut, suiting his matured image, but it looked just as handsome to her. Trying her best not to scuff up the picture, she stroked her thumb along the face of her still-alive husband.

"Oh, Mike…" Katherine said in a soft, brokenhearted tone. "I have no idea where you might be, but know that I am always protecting you in spirit. I was there for you ever since high school, and I haven't left your side since. You've needed me all this time, and I've always been there…"

No surprise she was feeling distraught over her husband's lack of presence. It was perfectly normal for someone to feel lost and/or lonely after losing a loved one, but that's not to say those lost loved ones weren't capable of feeling the same way in return. Having known Mike since adolescence, Katherine could hardly remember a day not spent with him. She'd considered herself a rather mild-mannered person prior to meeting him, but that all changed learning his life story and witnessing the way he handled traumatizing events and held grudges. She felt horrible for her then-boyfriend, being driven to insanity almost as much as he was as she watched him get kicked around by the world time and time again, whether it be that football-related injury or his parents' suicide. She hardly even blinked when he first made her tag along to vent his frustrations, watching with intrigue as he spilled proverbial blood on his hands for the very first time. And from there, they'd been in perfect sync, continuing on the Seymour family legacy and turning them from a shady organization to a criminal one… until everything went to s**t and sent most of the family to the realm of the dead. For the first time in a long while, in the midst of trying to resume where her husband left off, Katherine felt completely lost.

"…and yet, for once in our life together, I…" she uttered in a shaky voice, eyes brimming with tears. "I-I feel like I need you…!"