Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction for both Beetlejuice and Ruby Gloom. I do not own either of these things.

All references to Edward Scissorhands, or any other Tim Burton works, are completely intentional. I hope you enjoy this little story I did, and hope even more that you leave a review to tell me what you thought.

And now, without further adieu, the story!

...

Well, it had happened again. Beetlejuice's latest get-rich-quick scheme had backfired tremendously, and now Lydia wasn't speaking to him. In his defense, he hadn't meant to completely destroy Lydia's brand new bike. He had needed a test subject, and if his mail-order, build-it-yourself Wrap-O-Matic had worked as he had planned, Lydia's bike should have popped out of the machine perfectly wrapped in shiny aluminum wrapping paper, topped with a big frilly bow. He hadn't expected the bike to come out the other end an unrecognizable pile of scrap metal and rubber shreds.

"Maybe I should have followed the instructions," He muttered to himself, scratching his head.

"Beetlejuice?" Lydia called from the other room. She appeared in the doorway, just finishing pulling on her red spiderweb poncho. Beetlejuice froze in horror as Lydia paused, her eyes fixed on the heap of ruins in the middle of Beetlejuice's living room. "What on Earth is that?"

Beetlejuice cringed. "Heh heh," he laughed nervously. "Um…your bike?"

Lydia blinked. "What?"

"I needed a test subject," Beetlejuice explained. "So I used your bike."

"Without even asking?" Lydia put her hands on her hips, getting angry. "Beetlejuice, that was a birthday present! It was brand new!"

Now that he thought about it, telling her that the bike was kind of ugly anyway was probably not the best response. Lydia had left in a huff, despite his apologies and pleas to come back, and now he was left with a strange feeling that was bothering him. It was a tight feeling that felt like something was lodged in his throat and boiling in his stomach. Is this…what guilt feels like? He thought to himself. He shuddered. He wanted the feeling to go away as soon as possible.

Perhaps getting her a different bike would get rid of the feeling. A cool bike, way cooler than her old one, with gadgets and gizmos and a snack compartment (always stocked with beetles, of course) and a laser cannon a skull on the front that shrieked like a siren whenever you pushed a button! She would forgive him immediately, and this awful feeling would go away (not to mention the fact that she might let him ride it sometimes). It was the perfect solution.

One problem though. "I'm broke," he wailed, promptly shattering into a million pieces. Pulling himself together (literally) Beetlejuice decided that he must go out and scrounge up enough money to buy his Lyds a new bike. He wandered around, thinking up schemes and searching for just the right sucker to scam. After the first few tries, he had had had no luck (most of the neighbors were too used to him to fall for another one of his money-making plans), so he decided to branch out to farther reaches of the Neitherworld, where he'd be more likely to find a fresh sucker, naive and loaded with cash.

Upon arriving in a town called Gloomsville up north a bit, Beetlejuice thought he may have found them. Nine of them, actually.

Gloomsville was an ordinary town, as far as Neitherworld towns go, anyway. Fog hung heavy in the chilly air. Buildings swooped up towards the gray, cloudy sky, bending and curving at odd angles that would impossible in the Living World, where pesky laws like gravity and physics got in the way. Street lamps with candles and other 'antique-y' elements were mixed in, making it look like some bizarre, fantasy Victorian village. There were no sandworms in sight, which Beetlejuice liked. And there was a huge Victorian mansion on a hilltop on the edge of town, which Beetlejuice liked even better.

Spotting a withered old husk of a man slowly making his way down the street, Beetlejuice flew over and asked him who lived at the big mansion over there.

"Why, young Miss Ruby Gloom and her friends," The old man replied.

Ruby Gloom? Sounds like a sucker, He thought. "Young? Like, how young are we talking about here?" Beetlejuice said. From the looks of it, everybody was young to this geezer.

The old man frowned and his bald head, thinking. "I'm not really sure," he mumbled, half to himself, half to Beetlejuice. "I think that most of them are still children, though in regards to the bat and the crow, I can't be sure. It's a sort of a boarding house, I think. A bit of a peculiar situation, now that I think about it…" He trailed off.

Beetlejuice's eyes lit up. Whoever lived in that mansion had to be pretty filthy rich. But a bunch of rich, naïve little kids living there? That just made his job a heck of a lot easier.

...

Misery happened to be the closest to the door when the doorbell rang. She had just tumbled down the stairs and was lying in a heap at the bottom, right in front of the front door. "I'll get it," she moaned, picking herself up and adjusting her veil, which was askew on her head. She cleared her throat (ahem) and opened the door.

"Hello," she said flatly.

The guy on the porch was rather filthy looking. His skin was a peculiar shade of pink-purple, his eyes were yellow and sunken. His long, greasy yellow hair stuck out from underneath his baseball cap. He pointed a long, jagged fingernail proudly at the emblem on his chest, a logo of a toilet. "Howdy do. Beetleman's the name, fixin' pipes is my game. I was called for a plumbing problem," he grinned at her, exposing crooked yellow teeth.

Misery frowned. Well, more than usual. "I think you might have the wrong address." Suddenly, a bolt of lightning came from out of nowhere and struck her, causing Beetlejuice (or "Beetleman") to jump back in surprise. The lightning charred her and singed her hair and clothes. Smoking slightly, she muttered, "Ow."

Beetlejuice stared as she coughed, a plume of soot and ash billowing out in front of her. "Have a nice day," she told him, her voice raspy, and began closing the door.

Beetlejuice realized too late that his opportunity was escaping him. "Wait," he began, but the door was already shut.

Misery was hardly two steps away when the doorbell rang again. Closing her eyes and sighing, Misery reluctantly turned around and opened the door again. Mr. Beetleman still stood on the proch, albeit with a different suit on. He took of his hat. "Me again. Are ya interested in timeshare?" He asked.

"No!" Misery closed the door again. Beetlejuice frowned. Dang it. Maybe he needed a different approach.

Misery was three steps away from the door when the doorbell rang again. She looked at the ceiling, aggravated, and spun around. She opened the door for the third time, expecting Mr. Beetleman again. However, somebody else was standing there.

A very ugly woman with a peculiar resemblance to the "Beetleman" who had come knocking before stood there. She wore a uniform similar to a flight attendant's, except that it was striped pink and purple. She also carried a pink case in one hand. "Hi there," she said in a high-pitched voice, twirling a piece of stringy blonde hair around her finger. "I am Beautyjuice, winner of last year's Neitherworld Beauty Pageant, here to show you my new line of cosmetics. Perfect for those with unusual complexions, disgusting skin diseases, and advanced decay!"

Misery raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps you would be interested in some pockmark concealer, or cream for those nasty lightning scars!" Beautyjuice reached into her bag and pulled out two bottles. Misery squinted. The label on them read 'Beautyjuice Cosmetics: For the Undead with Class.' "I could even give you a free sample and demonstration! What do you say?"

"Umm…" Misery began uncertainly.

"Hey, Misery. Who's this?" A little girl with spiky red hair and a black dress walked up to them, standing next to Misery.

"Um. Ruby, this is… "Beautyjuice.' I think," Misery introduced awkwardly. 'Beautyjuice' waved cheerfully.

"I was just telling your friend here about my new line of cosmetics. You have a very pale complexion, dearie," Beautyjuice noticed. "I have something that will highlight that natural beauty." She held up a light purple bottle. "It has just a touch of lavender in it. Would you like to try it out?"

Ruby wasn't much for make-up, but she figured, why not. Besides, this lady seemed nice. She didn't want to turn her away, at least not yet. "All right. Come on in," She said, graciously stepping aside. Beautyjuice stepped in, marveling at how big the main hall was.

"Welcome to Gloom Manor," Ruby said brightly.