Let me make this horrifically clear. I don't own Danny Phantom, Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Jazz Fenton, Maddie Fenton, Jack Fenton, or anybody else in this show. Thank you.

New! The lab accident with a twist of lime!

Hi, I'm Danny Fenton. I'm a 14 year old guy with a couple of best buddies, a snobby older sister who thinks she's Sigmund Freud reincarnate, and parents who hunt ghosts for a living. Yes, ghosts. I don't know why either. They've never seen a a ghost, we keep on trying to tell them its a bunch of movie projectors or holograms, but they won't buy it. Figures, maybe they lived near power plants when they were kids...

Oh, by the way, no, they aren't legally insane. My sister's been trying to have them tested, but there's some problem with having personal ties to the patients or some such. I'm not sure whether they're insane or just heavily obsessed. Maybe some off mix of the two, Jazz is the expert.

They make equipment to fight ghosts. How they know how to attack something that doesn't exist is beyond my mortal comprehension. Hey, that's the longest word I've used all week! Have to chalk that one up, new record.

Anyway, lately they've been trying to build this portal between here and the 'Ghost Zone', where 'ghosts' supposedly spend their free time. My friends and I are betting on the theory it's the prop room from some kid's Halloween party. That or where they leave the left over stuff from Knott's Scary Farm...

Really, an alternate dimension full of dead guys? Maybe my parents need drug tests too, I'll have to see if I can slip any from the school's 'drug awareness center', alias the spare broom closet. In fact, I think they left the spares under the Lysol crate when I was 'randomly chosen' to have a drug test. ...What's with the looks?--Oh, duh, of course it came out negative, what did you think, I'm on crack or something! ...Then again, the eggs did smell funny this morning... Maybe mom's cooking with ecto whatever the heck it is again.

Moving on... I figure, why not snoop around the lab and see what's going on the basement-converted-lab? My buds and I've been looking for the TV remote for a couple hours, and I have a hunch they 'borrowed' it and turned the infra red signal into some ghost energy disrupter or something like that. Wouldn't put it past them, not after what they did to my sister's old jump rope. Fenton fisher? What in the name of all that is on during Saturday morning TV?

I ask my buddies, Sam and Tucker, and they agree to come along in my never ending quest for the TV remote. Every few days it's the same thing. You see, when mom and dad haven't swiped it, my sister will change the channel to something educational like Discovery Channel and hide the remote in a place where I can't reach. Lousy four inch hight difference. Just wait until dad's genes come in and I'm the size of a mini van, then we'll see what happens when 'Bearbert' takes a permanent vacation up the chimney shoot ... Oh wait, you didn't hear that!

So... I'm ranting again, aren't I? Damn genetics. They make me wait to get tall enough to outreach my sister, but do I have a say in when I spontaneously began to blabber on? No...

Spontaneously? Holy crud, two vocabulary words in one day? My third grade teacher would be so proud... Maybe now I can finally convince her I did not cheat off Tucker's paper during the English test, I knew how to spell 'because' on my own! I was just... Checking his spelling for him! Yeah, that's it. I just happened to spell amazing with an S like he did, no connection what so ever!

...Cough, so, we go down to the lab. Everything seems in order. Beakers strewn across the floor, welder's torch about to fall off the table, and enough cookies crumbs to feed an ant colony through the winter. Yep, everything just as it was the last time I came down here to let dad 'borrow' the elastic in my sweat band last week. You know, thinking about it, I never did get that sweat band back... Probably in some automatic ghost laser gun by now.

Everything looks in order, until I see a big hole in the wall. Holes in the walls are common place down here, you see, dad gets a little trigger happy when he makes a something that does anything besides spark.

A tip, move the rug under the sink and you can still see the scorch marks on the kitchen floor. Dad just wouldn't let us call the plumber, nope. He had to go all Star Wars on us and blast the pipe until the clog- a month old Peeps marshmallow from Easter- melted and left a nice light blue stain on the industrial size bucket. How we got that to fit under the sink is a story for another day, which also involves dad going trigger happy down here.

However, this hole in the wall was huge. Probably five feet square, if I'm any judge. There's also three knobs on the side. I look, and smack my head. My parents spend all night working on this thing, and the one thing they forgot was to turn on the power. Now, I'm no scientist, and maybe I'm plum out of my pea-picking mind, but somehow I think that you need to let energy in to something before it'll work.

I turn the knobs until they're all set to the first setting, might as well help along, right? Maybe now they'll shut up about it. Between them and Jazz I swear its a miracle I haven't ripped my ears off.

Sam clicks her tongue, and I turn. I hate it when she does that, I've been trying to learn to do it forever, and she loves to do it to get my attention,and generally tick me off. She asks me why I don't look inside and check it out, see if there's anything else that might have made the machine stop. You know, loose wire, plug that isn't plugged, junk like that. It was actually a pretty fair concern, considering they forgot to TURN ON THE FLIPPIN' POWER SWITCH...

Of course, in a good, if not short lived, stroke of genius, I'm not exactly sure about heading into some weirdo portal to the next plain of existence. Suppose this things actually works and you get zapped to Zombieville, we want your brains? She tells me she doubts it'll do anything unless it gets turned on, and I buy it. She preaches me about how it could be amazing and cool and great in there, and I take it, hook, line and sinker. I get on one of my parent's jumpsuits, a white one with black gloves, boots, collar and belt.

Of course, being the fellow I am, I need Sam to tell me to get the sticker of my dad's face off first. No use making that kind of a first impression in another dimension. I could see it now. 'Hi! I'm Danny Fenton, a powerless human geek who wears his dad's face on his shirt and is the first ambassador from Earth!' ...I rest my case for why I need Sam around.

She then replaces it with some funko insignia she said she made when she was a little kid that looked like a D with hole in the bottom to make the middle look like a P. Supposedly, we were all dressing as super heroes once for Halloween and I pretended to be a super hero called 'Danny Phantom', and for art class, Sam made an insignia for all three of us; Danny Phantom, Goth Gal, and Cyber Geek. Second grade teachers eat that kind of stuff up with a shovel.

I go in, and, of course, being the clumsy kid I am, I trip over a wire and dive bomb into the wall. Yay for me and my 'coordination'. Of course, karma having the fetish for frying my ass it does, I land on the power button. Next thing I know, ZZZAAAPPPP... BIG WHITE LIGHT.

No, I didn't move toward the light, the light was baking me alive you moron. Why would you go toward the light when you're being roasted alive like the smart little bug that tried to land on the candle? I'll never laugh when a moth does that again. The ants under a magnifying glass, how ever, are a different story. I have reasons for doing that, involving Paulina, a field trip with the Buddy system, and a war of fire ant colonies that just happened to be right where I put my nine year old duff. It still stings when ever I see one of the little six legged SOBs...

After what seemed like forever the light stopped and I tried to get the stars out of my eyes. I heard someone yelling my name. Great, I'm hearing voices in my head too, now? This day gets better and better, right along with the time I told Dash I forgot my lunch money and got a close up view of the nasty burger's toilets. Haven't used them since, nor gotten rid of the nightmares I get just by seeing one. Nobody should ever have to be that intimately familiar with the contents of a public restroom.

I stumble out, and I hear Sam and Tucker yelp. What, was my skin cooked off of me or something? Might be an interesting experience to finally see what in the heck a spleen looks like. I look at my hands, and see white. So my skin's white from being burned? I look again, and notice that my hand is glowing. That's right ladies and Gents, glowing.

Suddenly, my memory kicks in, and I ponder about the effects that much energy might have on a human body. I also happen to remember my parent's love of shiny metal. Maybe I could finally see what spooked Tucker and Sam so bad. I turn toward the chrome side of the lab to get a look at myself. I have white, almost silver hair, glowing green eyes, and am wearing a black jump suit.

Oh yeah, I've definitely joined mom and dad in the loony bin. How could a human being be glowing? Then, realization dawns. I've been shocked with a bazillion volts of electricity, I'm glowing, I have white hair, glowing green eyes, and I'm pale as a... oh crap.

That can't be right, ghosts don't exist. I should of gone up to some golden gates and met some dude with wings that tells me off for all I've done and sends me as far down south as I can go. At least, that's what I planned, what with all the times I mentally cussed people out. God can read minds, right?

Oh, duh, of course Fenton, you're dreaming! Just pinch yourself or something and it'll be tomorrow, you'll be late for the bus, and having dad air horn you out of bed.

I bite my lip, and sure enough, it hurts, and a little bit of green stuff comes out of my lip. Thus, I established three things. One, this isn't heaven or Hell, because I felt pain, two, this isn't some wack job dream, and third, I'm bleeding what ever the heck my parents use to power their equipment.

In other terms, I'm a qualified, deader-than-a-doornail ghost. Maybe I should take back what I said about my parents being nuts for believing in this stuff. Nah, they're the ones who made this death trap and left it wide open, and that's room enough for being insane.

I look at Sam and Tucker, they're frozen in in their places. Like those scenes in the matrix. I hold up my hand, and it starts to glow green, the glow around it changing shape. I look at it in shock, and then horror. What the heck, if being dead isn't bad enough, I'm melting now! I mentally tell it to stop, but too late, some green laser fires out of my hand and knocks something off a shelf. Well, at least I'm not melting, I just shot a laser from my hands.

Wait a flippin' second. I just shot a laser from my hands. What could I do with a built in laser. Where to begin. Pantsing, peep holes, showing everyone that the cafeteria food is in fact combustible... Oh wait, what'd I knock down?

I look at what fell, the TV remote. Oh irony, why must you do this? I come down here to find the TV remote, die, and then find it? You know, when I have no use for it? Why couldn't I find it before I kicked the bucket? I need to find the telephone number for the god of karma, irony, and Murphy's law, and give him a piece of my mind.

In fact, I think of going up to the clouds to talk to a certain entity, and I begin to float up. Yes, float. I'm a ghost, it comes with the territory.

I, having no clue, begin screaming. However, as soon I start screaming, I feel my head tingle. I hold my hand up to it, and it goes through. I look at the wall, and my head's gone. Great, I'm gonna be like that ghost from that one book series. What was his name anyway, almost headless bob or something?

Well, at least no one would be able to pin it on me if I had no head. Then again, there couldn't be that many headless ghosts... Maybe I can bring my head back. I think of my head, and it comes back. Good. Maybe now I can establish some control over my new ghostly abilities.

I turn toward my friends, and tell them to come closer. They look at me for a minute, before slowly coming forward. Great, they're scared of me. Wonderful. I'm dead, I'm a ghost, and my friend's won't willfully poke me with a ten foot stick.

I look at them, before saying, "Well, dude, dudette; I think I'm dead! Isn't today great? Dead at the age of fourteen, cause of death: curiosity killed the cat."

Sam looked at me cautiously, before stuttering, "C-care t-to elaborate?

I sighed, before going on one of my family's famous rants. I sucked in a deep breath, before saying, "I've passed on! This kid is no more! I have ceased to be! I've expired and gone to meet my maker! I'm a stiff! Bereft of life, I rest in relative peace! If I wasn't floating up here I'd be pushing up the daisies! My metabolic processes are now history! I'm off the rocking chair! I've kicked the bucket, I've shuffled off his mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible!

I AM AN EX-KID!"

...Man I seriously need to watch less Monty Python. Before I start singing about being a lumberjack. Or spam.

They look at me, shocked. Of course they'd be shocked, if your best friend went in some hole in the wall, got zapped, came out glowing and started quoting Monty Python's Flying Circus, wouldn't you? However, Tucker can talk. No, he doesn't have guts, he has a mouth the size of Texas. I'd willfully trade the latter for the former.

He asked, "A ghost? What makes you say that?"

I sigh. Strike one for the 'my friends will make me a better person' theory. I turn to him, a bit off guard at the lack of observation of my good friend. I look at him for a minute, before replying with as much sarcasm as I could muster, "Let's recap. I'm glowing. I'm shooting green junk out of my hands. I'm floating in mid air. Face it guys, I was human, but I've gone ghost."

Strangely, at these words, a pair of light blue rings form around my middle. What, am I supposed to do the hoola hoop? Is this candid camera or something?

The rings separate, and I look curiously at where they've passed. My normal clothes. Holy crap. The rings vanish at my head and feet, and I'm completely normal. No more glowing hands or funky black jumpsuit. Unfortunately, along with them, went my ability to float.

I fell on the floor, yelping as I landed on my tail bone. I look back, and gulp. Just one more thing to add to this day. My butt's gone, just like my head was. Great.

My friends look at me, double taking, before each grabbing one of my once again living hands and helping me up. I look back behind me, still gone.

I sigh. "Great, I'm some freak of nature ghost hybrid, in a house full of ghost hunters, who'll probably zap me on sight, and to top it all of, I've got no ass."

Tucker looked at me cautiously, before putting a his arm on my shoulder. Well, at least he can comfort me. Still afraid though, drat. He looked at me sympathetically, before saying, "Come on dude, having no ass is not a problem. You can pickup chicks as the ghost you, girls love a guy in a tight jumpsuit"

I sigh, strike two, so much for the comforting Tucker. I look at him with daggers, before pointing at my still invisible behind. "No Tuck, as in, its really gone. I've got no butt, it disappeared to where ever the heck my head went when it disappeared."

Tucker looked at me oddly, before a sudden fit of the giggles set in. What, is Tucker epileptic or something? He held his gut. Don't barf on me, buddy.

Tucker looked at me, before checking to the side, as if looking at my... Oh, I get it. Pervert Tuck strikes again, laughing at the poor unfortunate soul who's rear disappeared off the face of the Earth. I concentrated, and it came back into view. Thank god. How I would ever get a date to the prom with no ass was beyond me.

Tucker and Sam let out a small 'eek' as my bum came back. They'll have to get used to that.

Sam rubbed the back of her head, as if unsure to approach me. Finally, she said, "So... What now? I mean, we can't tell your parents or jazz, you'll probably get locked up some where and be in the new X files episode. How are we going to keep it secret?"

To tell you the truth, I had no clue. If my body parts kept on disappearing, somebody would notice eventually. I could blame it on my parents having toxic waste around, but then they'd be in trouble, and insanity aside, they are my parents.

Finally, I said, "I guess I'll just have to be careful." Lucky me. I better be getting some major karma points for this.

I looked at the small device in my hands, glad for little miracles. "Well, at least we got the remo-"I began to say, but stopped when I looked inside the remote. No batteries, and we're fresh out.

I look hopefully to my friends, who shrugged, signalling that they have nothing on them. I sigh, hoping that maybe Jazz switched the channel. As if, but maybe karma decided to give me some help?

I turn on the TV, and it's stuck on a documentary about the ant colonies of Asia. Damn you karma.

I have one thing to say about this day, and one thing only.

"This day has been crap. Sheer, udder crap."