Here it is. Ghostfacers. The paranormal phenomena blog-turned-television show that's one producer away from live TV. (Definitely. The fact that it's filmed in your parents' garage doesn't matter.)

The Morton house was to be your pilot. Every four years on February 29th, someone tries to stay through the night, and every time they fail. You can already imagine the popularity of the show if you got real, genuine, ghost footage.

Your crew was small, just 5 people including the cameraman, but it'll surely be more than that once a studio picks you up.

"Alright," you announced to the large camera Spruce had pointed at your face. "We leave tomorrow at ten, so be prepared. There's history to be made."

Your walking over to the photo-filled whiteboard on the garage door was interrupted by Corbett handing you a cup you assumed was coffee. He was good at making coffee.

Corbett was interesting for an intern. He always seemed a little overeager, but you weren't even sure if he really believed in ghosts. He seemed to really think you were funny, which you would've appreciated if Harry would stop giving him a weird look. But he had a steady hand for cameras and a willingness to stay up till sunrise in an abandoned haunted house, and that was all you really needed.

You took it out of his hands, awkwardly lingering in the middle of the frame as he commented, "It's, uh, french vanilla coffee. You said that was your favorite."