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s12e01. My Next Guest...







"Greetings. I am Space Ghost. Welcome to my show."

The empty studio echoed his voice. The silence was deafening. After several seconds, Space Ghost let out a frustrated sigh and faded onto the chair behind his desk.

The long forgotten one time cosmic hero turned talk show host, Space Ghost, began his show like he always did:

"My first guest tonight is--" 

Zorak, his former enemy turned co-host, screeched, "You don't have any guests."

Space Ghost looked at him without saying a word, then blasted the wall with one of his twin powerbands, leaving a scorch mark next to Zorak.

Space Ghost smiled a half-assed smile then tapped his cue cards against his desk.

"Where the hell is my coffee, Zorak?" he changed the subject.

“How the hell should I know?” Zorak stared blankly at Space Ghost.

“Moltar, do you know where my coffee is?” Space Ghost asked his co-star who managed the cameras and set. “Hmm?”

Space Ghost sighed again when Moltar declined to respond. Nobody ever listened to his complaints anyway.

Space Ghost looked at the papers on his desk to see the scheduled guests for tonight. He faked surprise when he saw the list was blank. He already knew that, but he didn’t want to accept that his show wasn’t on the air. Because it wasn’t. The show, Space Ghost Coast to Coast hadn’t seen a live guest in years.

“Guess I’ll take my commercial break early and get my coffee then. At least then I can make it the way I like!” Space Ghost said aloud. When nobody responded, he turned into his ghost form and reformed in the kitchen attached to the set.

How long have I been doing this?

Years, surely. But how many? Decades? Centuries? There was no true way to tell the passage of time in space. Well, maybe there was but he didn’t know of any. All communication with the outside world stopped in 2008. It was like the world had forgotten him because no matter what Space Ghost tried, he could not leave the set of Coast to Coast.

Moltar thinks they’re all in some ‘Forgotten Zone’ of existence where everyone who becomes irrelevant ends up. Well maybe it was non-existence now that he thought about it. Regardless, the whole idea was cockamamie. All he knew for sure was that after his show went off the air, himself and the rest of the cast of Coast to Coast found that their studio was in a different plane of existence. It looked the same to the untrained eye. But Space Ghost’s eyes were well trained. Those things could win awards they were so well trained.

Space Ghost found the coffee pot had already been brewed. He searched the cabinet for his favorite mug with the imprint of his logo on it. Lucky for him he didn’t have to look hard, the cabinet was filled with copies of the same mug. He grabbed the nearest one, poured himself half a cup and sipped it.

The moment the liquid touched his lips, Space Ghost felt something drop in his lower abdomen.

Since nobody was watching his show, what better time to take a space dump? “I have been irregular lately.”

“What?” Zorak shouted from his desk in the other room. Apparently he heard Space Ghost’s voice and had nothing better to do than to ask him questions.

“I’m going to go take a space dump!” Space Ghost shouted back. “Entertain the audience until I return.” He faded from the kitchen and teleported to the set bathroom.

“We have no audience, you Space shit!” Zorak said, not knowing Space Ghost had left the kitchen.



Space Ghost swung open the bathroom stall door. “It is I, Space Ghost!”

As expected, the bathroom was empty except for him. He sat on the cold toilet seat and dropped his pants. He wasn’t sure how long this was going to take, so he made himself comfortable and found a newspaper Moltar usually left there. It was dated May 30th, 2008. He’d read this hundred times but he liked to act as if it were something new.

“Oh, would you look at that? Charlie Sheen got married. Good for him. Great guy…”

It was either this or the reading material left behind by Zorak, which was nothing but vulgar graffiti on the bathroom walls that read: “Zorak rules!” and “Space Ghost sucks ass!”



Space Ghost faded onto the set like an apparition. Time to try this again.

"Greetings. I am Space Ghost. Welcome to my show."

He got into his desk and took a sip of his coffee, smiling devilishly at the camera. Zorak and Moltar watched him from their stations, unsure of what he was going to do. Or if he was going to do anything at all.

Space Ghost took another sip. Sip. Sip. Sip.

Sip. Sssssip. Sipppppp.


At one point he started slurping, which drove Zorak to yell, “I will fucking shoot you!”

“Hey,” Space Ghost rebutted, “You can’t say that on the air!”

“We aren’t live, Space Ghost,” Moltar’s voice chimed in. “You do realize that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” responded Space Ghost, “What do think I am? Deranged?”

“I never said that-”

“Think I’ve lost touch with reality, huh Moltar? Hm? HMM?” Space Ghost rang his fists through the air and he got louder with every ‘Hmm’ me spat. “Hmm? Hmmmm?”

“Uhh--” Moltar didn’t know what to say at this point. And it looked like Zorak was staying out of it.

Space Ghost stood up to emphasize the next aggressive ‘Hmmm’ when the television screen lowered aside his desk. The screen was black then flashed images of static.

The three of them looked at the TV, then at each other.

“This isn’t funny, Moltar,” Space Ghost said.

“Hey, that wasn’t--” Moltar’s voice was cut off by a sudden crash, as someone fell through the ceiling and landed next to Space Ghost.

It was a man in his 20s by the look of him. He wore a combination of metal, leather and torn fabrics that fitted his body. He quickly got to his feet, seemingly unfazed by the fall, and ignited a crimson blade in his hand. He seemed confused, but hostile. Space Ghost pointed his powerbands at him, ready to fry him if things got ugly.

“Who are you?” Space Ghost asked. Zorak and the newcomer echoed the same question but before any of them could answer, the television set flickered again. This time the image wasn’t static, it was the face of a rather smug looking gecko.



“Is this thing on? OH, Space Ghost! Rad,” said the gecko.

Space Ghost turned his ready-to-fire powerband at the television, “Who are you supposed to be?”

“He looks delicious,” Zorak said.

The man with the red laser blade tried to get everyone’s attention again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

The gecko continued on, “I’m supposed to be the guy getting entertained by mindless television. Unfortunately, your show is the only thing worth watching on FZTV and you haven’t even been on the air”

“FZ-whatsie?” Space Ghost asked.

“Forgotten Zone Television. Don’t you watch?” The gecko asked in return.

“No.” Space Ghost said. “And I won’t either. What kind of man would I be if I took a recommendation from a lizard? I’d be an idiot, that’s what.”

“Who are you calling a lizard, pal? The name’s Gex. I’m a gecko who has an itch for the finer programs in life and your show is up next on my TV Guide. I figured you needed a new guest so I found this guy and dropped him off.” Gex pointed at the newcomer. “You’re welcome.”

Space Ghost responded by blasting the TV, breaking it and Gex’s connection along with it. The newcomer wasn’t fond of that decision however and swung his sword near Space Ghost’s neck.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The newcomer asked. “He had answers I needed.”

Space Ghost whirled around to face his ‘guest’ with his powerbands. “I will fucking shoot you!”





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