#sammanon

"I love it." "I hate it." Tucker and Sam said it in sync.

Well, one out of two isn't bad.

"Come on!" Danny said, trying to be reasonable — which, to be fair, is difficult when half your ideas involve ghosts. "It'll be fun. And we sort of need the money."

Sam crossed her arms. "Do you hear yourself?"

"Now wait a minute," Tucker interjected, his eyes shining with mischief. "A YouTube channel about Phantom could actually be fun. But the bigger question is… what do we call it?"

Danny couldn't help the grin that slowly broke out on his face. "How about… Dead on Air?"

Tucker burst into laughter. Sam groaned. Danny knew they were beaten.

Meanwhile, in Gotham…

"Whatcha watching, Demon Brat?" Jason leaned over Damian's shoulder.

Damian scowled and kept staring at the screen. "Shut up, Todd."

Jason squinted; from what he could see, the kid was watching… a talk show? The host was a white-haired teenage boy dressed in a black-and-white jumpsuit, and behind him was a glowing green portal that looked almost too much like a Lazarus pit (or the demon himself in a new body).

"What the—" Jason frowned.

"I said shut up! It's about to start."

The boy on the screen winked at the camera. "Welcome back, everybody! I'm your host, Phantom, and this

The camera panned to a band of transparent, glowing figures.

“Give it up for The Beatles! Half a century later and they’re still jamming!”

Jason blinked. “Wait—aren’t they dead?”

Damian gave him a flat look. “They’re ghosts, Todd. Obviously.”

Jason opened his mouth, closed it again. “…What the actual—”

“Without further ado,” Phantom continued cheerfully, “today’s special guest is one fans have been begging for! Please welcome… the ghost of Harambe!”

A spectral gorilla lumbered into frame. The audience — also ghosts — went wild.

Damian sat up a little straighter, smiling for the first time that day. “Finally. I’ve been requesting him for months.”

Jason stared at him. At the screen. Back at him.

“…I’m never using the internet again.”

Sam: “Guys, do you mind joining me at this gender reveal party? I got an invitation from some rich woman. She rented an entire hotel in Gotham and apparently told everyone to invite everyone. And I can’t skip this one.”

Danny: “A gender reveal? In Gotham? That already sounds cursed.”

Tucker: “Eh, we’ve got nothing else this weekend. What’s the worst that could happen?”

...

Danny (screaming later): “HOW THE HELL CAN A GENDER REVEAL PARTY GO SO WRONG?!”

Tucker: “Rule number one: never say ‘impossible’ in Gotham. The city hears you.”

Sam (half-buried under balloons and confetti): “Mom, Dad… can we agree to never go to another gender reveal party? Like, ever again? As much as I love gossip, we somehow ended up in the hospital.”

Jeremy: “Pamela, sweetheart, I’m with Samantha. The connections aren’t worth it. Let’s just—avoid Gotham entirely.”

Pamela: “Better idea. Let’s just never attend any gender reveal party ever again. Especially public ones. I don’t want to see a single confetti cannon for at least a year.”

Danny (standing up, covered in pink frosting): “YOU 🫵 HOW DID YOU END UP WITH US?!”

Tim (lying on the floor, drenched in cake): “I DON’T KNOW—I JUST FOLLOWED THE FIRST BLACK-HAIRED, BLUE-EYED PERSON I SAW!”

Turns out, the chaos started way before the cake explosion.

The hostess? A Gotham heiress, being forced into an arranged marriage. Except—plot twist—she’d been secretly in love with Killer Croc for years.

Yeah. That’s right. Croc saved her from a creep once, and it turned into a whole forbidden romance arc. He’s the father of the baby.

Cue the dramatic reveal: Croc shows up holding her coat while she announces their love to a crowd of Gotham’s rich elites. Her parents actually accept them, but then—

GASP

There’s someone else who’s in love with her. The Riddler.

They were childhood friends, and he’s been obsessed ever since. Except... it turns out he’s been secretly sleeping with the guy she was supposed to marry.

Everything spirals from there—screaming, glass breaking, Croc trying not to eat someone, confetti cannons going off mid-brawl, and one very traumatized table of Amity Park teens trying to blend into the wallpaper.

By the end of it, no one even remembers the baby’s gender.

Danny, Tucker, Sam, and Tim all end up in the same hospital ward.

And because Tim’s running on three hours of sleep and pure confusion, he just follows them back to Amity Park.

They have a sleepover. They trauma bond. They never mention Gotham again.