"Choose and perish," The disembodied, androgynous voice of Gozer the Gozerian said directly into the minds of the huddled Ghostbusters.

Ray stepped forward, "What do you mean choose? We don't understand."

Ectoplasmic lightning streaked across the sky, storm clouds swirled around the skyscraper, punctuating Gozer's demand, "Choose. Choose the form of the destructor."

"I get it!" Venkman said, smiling up at the vortex. "I get it. Oh, very cute." He turned back to face Ray and Winston. "Whatever we think of— if we think of J. Edgar Hoover, J. Edgar Hoover will appear and destroy us. Okay?" He waved his palms, "so empty your heads. Empty your heads. Don't think of anything. We've only got one shot at this."

The clumsy effort of deliberately trying not to think of anything came over the ghostbusters. Winston blinked his eyes like he was trying to wash away a hangover.

"That's it," Venkman said, "don't think of any—" He went slack and sighed. "Crap."

"The choice is made," Gozer boomed, "The Traveler has come."

Everyone looked at Venkman. "What'd you do?" Ray said.

"What did you think of, Peter?" Egon said.

Venkman shook his head, "Not my fault, okay! It's been a day, first my girlfriend turned into a dog and then we had that bubblewrap go-go dancer flaunting everything she's got… my head was empty, just not my head. I popped a boner, alright? There, I said it."

Ray let out a huff, "That might be the most poorly-timed erection in the history of the western hemisphere."

"Look!" Winston pointed out across the Hudson River, where a hundred-foot-tall woman, Gozer, sauntered towards Manhattan. Half-naked, clad in an iridescent bodysuit that hugged her lithe curves, she bellowed malicious laughter. Each step shook the city