The interior was not as grand as they expected for the supposed lair of a ghost gone mad.  A small table with only two chairs and a single dreary white tablecloth, and a fireplace between rectangular windows that curved at the top.  What was interesting about this room however was the strange device in the far corner of the room, to the left of the fireplace.  James had never seen such a thing before, a small wooden table with a black circle on top, crowned by a large brazen yellow trumpet shaped like a bloomed daffodil.
	"The hell is that?" he asked.
	"A phonograph," said Koopin, "you never seen one before?"
	"Nah everything's digitaaaaaHAK!  UH-HAK!"
He tried to fake coughing in order to cover up his near-slip up, panting slightly before recovering.
	"I mean nah everything's new here to me."
	"Right...you okay?  You don't have asthma do you?"
	"Hah, no, I think that'd have come up in the desert full of SAND."
	"Alriiiiight just checking sheesh.  So the record Boona talked about must already be in the phonograph."
They cautiously walked over towards the device, where indeed a record was placed upon it ready to be used.  James had no idea what to make of it until he realised that he had seen such similar devices in rave clubs.  He chuckled and gave it a little spin, before putting his claws upon the black disc and quickly shuffling it back and forth.
	"CHUWUH-KHI-KHI, yo yo, DJ Eff Gee in the house biggin' up the night!"
	"James cut it out!"
	"What?  My mix-ups too fresh for ya?  My turning pad too HOT for your scritchy-scritching?"
James did a few gangsta-style poses in his hip attempt.  Koopin merely glared at him with half-closed eyes, before responding sardonically with:
	"...firstly, it's mixING, not mix-UPS.  Secondly, you mean a turnTABLE...not a pad, which you do SCRATCHIN' on."
	"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the grandmaster DJ."

Koopin put his arms to his waist and shook his head before gently picking up the record.  It had no song title, and its innermost ring was coloured a dark blue.
	"Hmmm, this is a double-sided one too."
	"Aren't they ALL double-sided?"
	"Some of them only have songs on one side.  I bet it'd be neat to get the same two records and mix both sides together in one beat."
	"Heheh, you really are the grandmaster DJ arentcha?"
	"W-w-well..." the koopa blushed softly.  "I...kinda wanted to be a DJ when I was a kid.  I read up on all the stuff long back and I kinda still remember it all."
	"Hah, awwww that why you like to hang out at the clubs?"
	"Well that and the drink, meeting people and so on, but yeah I love the music."
	"So what does this music sound like?"
	"Let's find out!"
Quickly flipping the record on, Koopin began to crank it up with a handle at the base of the machine, winding it up as the record slowly spun.  The moment he placed the needle arm upon the record's grooves, a strange song began to emanate from the tinny speaker.  It wasn't even a song, but rather some sort of forlorn brass intro, followed by a hollow tinkling melody, almost as if recorded from a music box.
Koopin was nervous around the song, and he was about to ask FG his opinion on it, when he saw the raptor's face turn blank with a strange listless expression.
	"...James?  J-James?"
The song, while only lasting for about forty seconds or so before looping, was enough for the raptor to lose himself within a most unusual trance.  In his mind, he was replying to Koopin, yet he saw his friend looking more and more worried, all while the most bizarre of hallucations began to claw at the frayed edges of his vision.

He could see abandoned cities faintly in the corner of his eyes, dystopian dreams and strange technology from towering skyscrapers he stood within the shadow of.  A wistfulness came to him of Chicago, but somehow worse.  Much worse.  He could feel a presence nearby, a strange human-like figure.  He could only see its mouth, cracked lips faded with age, nearing their twilight years.  The lips began to move, speaking a sentence that transferred itself to his mind, and so FG began to speak it in turn, his words flat like cardboard.
	"The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world."
	"SNAP OUT OF IT!"
Hearing a voice scream through his vision, he grabbed his head and groaned from a whining fury inside his own mind.  Koopin scraped the needle off of the record before shaking James free from his trance, grabbing his arms and shaking him vigorously.  The raptor's eyes began to focus once again, a bright light blinding him briefly before blinking carefully around the room, as he gazed down towards his friend.
	"...wha...where did he go?"
	"Who?!"
	"There...that guy.  There was a bright light all of a sudden and...and a city, and-"
	"James, just focus on me!  You okay?!  That record, it musta hypnotised you or something but it's gone now!"
	"...I...um...y-yeah...I'm okay now."
	"Oh thank stars, I thought something bad happened."
	"Not yet."
The ghostly voice came from above, scaring the koopa as they turned round to see their targeted foe.  A boo like any other floated down from the ceiling to the center of the room, except this one was wielding a baton in one flipper-like hand.  His eyes, unlike the other boos, were not solid black but instead a wintry grey.  His voice was sinister, deep with the passing of untold centuries.
	"But I can arrange something to happen."
	"H-hey!" started FG, "you the one causing everyone here to go crazy?!"
	"Insanity is but a melody of the mind that nobody likes to hear.  A little madness in C-minor never hurt anyone."
	"Where did you get that record?!"
	"Ho ho ho...are you a musical aficionado dear mortals?"
	"Y-yes!" said Koopin.  "Yes we are, and we were fascinated by your uh record!  We'd love to know where you got it please."
	"Hmmmm...some charming young lads in black cloaks offered it to me, said they found it hopelessly abandoned within the mountains to the north.  Naturally I could not refuse the offer of another fine record to add to my collection...since then I have been listening to it over and over again...a wondrous melody."
	"Uhm...i-it is.  But...could we possibly take it and appraise it for you?  We think it might come from a famous composer, and I'm sure a museum somewhere would-"
	"NO!"
The room echoed with a thunderous boom at his sudden outburst, the chairs knocking away from the table to almost slam into both raptor and koopa.
	"You will never take that record off of my beloved phonograph!  A TRUE scholar of music would understand such PASSION!"
	"B-but I-"
	"SILENCE!  ...you must be educated in the great arts of conducting...witness my latest symphony, penned by me, Boohoven!"
	"Okay I had enough," said FG as he pulled out his scissors, "I'm cutting his act short."
	"But James-"
	"Nah-uh Koopin, you had your chance, now, it's ass-kicking time."

Despite the koopa's insistence, James was already leaping into the oncoming fray, the spirit weaving his baton as a stranger melody began to permeate the room.  While it did not affect James unlike the bizarre record, it was enough to disorient him slightly, which was not something he needed when dodging furniture with a vengeance.  First came the chairs, two of them dancing together like a waltzing couple in the air.
The very room began to shake and tremble with a newfound energy, a phantasmic force emanating from Boohoven as he began to glow a sorrowful blue like the moon itself.  Koopin was panicking, not even sure what to do other than to dodge any rogue furniture or cutlery that dared to attack them.  James was doing his best to do just that, swiftly evading first one chair then the other.
The wooden seats slalomed towards him like missiles, the second clobbering his guarded shoulder with such a force that it stung horribly so, making him yelp and clutch his arm sorely.  Boohoven was oblivious, the melody playing onwards throughout as he conducted into a trance.  James kept his eyes on the chairs, seeing they were the main source of attack from his ghostly foe, until he heard a clattering come from behind.
The cutlery from the clothed small table began to rattle violently so, a few small knives and forks to fit three people.  He wasn't quick enough to dodge them, but he was quick enough to raise his scissors before him, letting the stainless steel clink harmlessly off of them.  A few small utensils, but deadly nevertheless even without the plates that came afterwards.  The raptor turned impatient as he striked them hard, smashing them into splinters around him.
	"JAMES WATCH OUT!"

A rumbling sound came from the fireplace, yet nothing seemed to come from it.  A further deeper rattling came from above it, and the raptor saw that the various faded pictures hanging on the wall were readily coming loose from their hangings.  Swinging towards him like shurikens, he dodge-rolled from one before striking the other expertly so, swinging a single horizontal strike as if striking an opponent's waist in mid-dodge.  The third portrait he blasted at with a fireball to stop it dead.
The fourth and fifth however came at him simultaneously, making him turn desperate despite them not being potentially as harmful as the small cutlery.  He waited for them to come closer, before spinning with his scissors around in a circle, striking out both pictures in mid-air to cut them in twain.  Yet the room still began to shake violently.  James realised that the only thing in the room that hadn't been violent towards him was the phonograph.
	"THE RECORD!"
	"WHAT?!" said Koopin.
	"TAKE THE RECORD OUT, BREAK IT, JUST STOP THE MUSIC!"
Koopin desperately fumbled for the record in the device, tearing the needle free of it before smashing it onto the ground.  The music still kept playing from the ancient machine, as if nothing had happened at all.
	"IT'S NOT WORKING, IT'S STILL PLAYING!"
	"FUCKING HAUNTED PIECE OF SHIT!"
	"...LOOK OUT, BEHIND YOU!"
Hearing his friend's warning through the darkening force around the manor, the table itself began to shake with a powerful anger, tearing itself free from the floor before swinging towards James like a bat, in both senses of the word.  Not only did it float as effortlessly as one, but it also swung like one too, striking against the raptor's scissors as he began to duel with Boohoven's force.

While the table was thick and heavy despite its small size, James was confident in his scissors' unwavering defence, the unbreakable weapon never chipping against the solid wood.  Whenever it tried to swing down hard, FG would avoid it cleanly to the side.  Whenever it began to swing wildly with weaker but swifter strikes, he would defend and repel it, knowing the limits of his guarding power.
Eventually the table began to clearly no longer care about being skilful, and started to hurl itself violently towards James like a battering ram.  He dodged hastily so right before it doubled back to slam him straight towards a window.  A vicious shattering of glass accompanied his scream as he grabbed desperately onto the windowsill.  Not because he was afraid to fall, but because of the sudden furious wind that was circling the mansion, taking the table with it.
Now they both knew what the source of the powerful noise was.  A fierce full gale, howling throughout the mansion's grounds with a shrieking of vengeance.  Struggling to hold onto the windowsill with one hand while the other held his scissors, he cried out towards Koopin, who was struggling to keep himself on solid ground.  He held onto the phonograph, which somehow remained not only the source of the power, but also remained welded to the very floor despite being moveable.  He tried to walk towards the window, grabbing the walls.
Seeing the raptor's hand desperately cling on to the window, Koopin reached out as far as he could while holding onto the fireplace, a whimpering reach of fear and panic.  The raptor was not afraid, but he was most certainly panicked about the prospect of being sucked into the infernal vortex.  At that moment, while the two desperately reached out to each other, a voice came from across the room.
	"JAMES!  KOOPIN!"

Koopin turned his head hastily to see Boona, cowering behind the door where Boohoven could not see him.  The ghost conductor was far too absorbed in his reverie to pay any attention to him, as Koopin cried out:
	"HELP, JAMES NEEDS HELP!"
	"I GOT AN IDEA!  HOLD ON!"
Boona desperately swam through the air, struggling to dodge the flying debris as both dust and wallpaper began to tear from their roots, swirling into a dusty cloud of violent chaos.  Various objects swirled into a singular entity, never clashing with each other, yet somehow always on the lookout to attack anyone.  Koopin was already afraid of being targeted, as he kept James from falling into the gale's abyss.  Boona eventually managed to float towards the phonograph, which was still rooted to the spot before he pulled out a red-and-green record.
	"HURRY BOONA!" cried out Koopin before Boona shouted:
	"HEY!  BOOHOVEN!  LISTEN TO THIS!"
The boo planted his record squarely onto the machine, before hurriedly cranking it up into a whole new medley.  The song began to break through everything slowly, the chaos unwinding gently as the furious song of the storm was soon replaced by a most whimsical melody.  Brass and piano began to emanate from the phonograph speaker, the handle winding happily away as the record began to spin, the song only further strengthening with the force of an entire band behind its music.
	"Wha-wha!?" said Koopin.  "...I know that song, that's an old one!"
	"Just help James!" said Boona swiftly.  "Do it before the song's over!"

As Koopin did just that, the storm continued on outside with a decreasing ferocity, the raptor realising that something about the melody was affecting the power around them.  Indeed, just as he managed to climb back into the room, the three of them looked on at Boohoven floating above.  He was lost in his conducting still, but the rhythm he waved his baton at was different.  Even moreso, he was smiling.  Bopping his head to the new tune with a wagging little tail.
All around them, the room began to lose its force.  Furniture began to fall back into their original settings, portraits clacking onto the floor with smatterings of dust, the gale's howl dying into a pathetic whimper beneath the perky rambling melody.  Brass and piano were accompanied by a whole group of instruments for quite a while, its jaunty tune making everyone in the room start to bounce to the beat.
	"Wh-what the heck is this?" said FG.
	"Overworld in Sub-Minor," said Boona proudly, "by Koopi Kondo!  It's Boohoven's favourite song, I thought it'd help him snap out of it!"
	"I knew I heard that somewhere before!" said Koopin.  "Mom's always talking about him, she loves his work!"
	"So do I!"
Boohoven happily began to wave his baton with an excitable energy, smiling with exuberance as he mentally conducted the whole band through.  The dark energy began to finally dissipate, and the moment it finally disappeared was on the last second of the song.  The record began to spin mutely, its needle scraping quietly as Boona gently placed it back.  The three also noticed that the other strange record had disappeared into a strange flicker of bizarre staticky-grey flames.  Before they had time to ask each other, the conductor floated downwards with a smile.
	"Aaaaah it brings so much joy for me to hear that song once again.  I feel as if I have not heard it in a long time!  ...forgive me for asking but, who might you two be?"
	"Mister Boohoven," said Boona politely, "these are my friends, Koopin and James."
	"A pleasure to meet you," said the spirit with a bow, "I take it you enjoy my most beloved phonograph."
	"Um...we do," said FG, "but...what's up with your voice?  You sound so...um..."
	"Old?"
James said nothing, biting his lip softly to not be rude as Boohoven chuckled.  The three of them also noticed that Boohoven's eyes were no longer grey, but now back to the standard black of all good boos.
	"A good strong question from a good strong lad.  I am one of the first boos to be part of this mansion, Lady Bow's very own personal conductor, and Master of Ceremonies.  I am Boohoven, maestro of music for this dark land."
	"Uhhh...cool!  James Campbell, and this here's Koopin Kennidon."
	"An honour to meet you sir," said Koopin with a bow.  "My mom's a musician too!"
	"Is she now?  Wonderful, what instrument does she play?"
	"She's a flautist...and does piano."
	"Marvellous!  I am always delighted to see musical enthusiasts or those related come to our home.  Did you need anything good sirs?"
	"Actually yeah...we're trying to find someone gone missing."
	"...someone is missing?"
	"Yeah, a mailtoad from Toad Town.  He was kidnapped by some guys in black cloaks and-"
	"Hold that thought!  ...did you say black cloaks?"
	"Y-yeah!"
	"...come with me."

Passing further into the mansion's depths, James and Koopin explained as best as they could about what had happened, according to Boona and the black cloaks they had sighted nearby.  Boohoven, while not the lord, was nevertheless receiving the greatest of dignity from his fellow spirits.  As the personal conductor of the Lady of the house, he was able to command a great deal of respect.
He also managed to clear up his actions during his rather odd spell, explaining to the other boos who in turn apologised to James and Koopin for what had happened.  James forgave them, seeing he had given them a hard-enough time in fighting back and knowing that they respected his elemental powers.  As a result, the mansion was now full of boos fluttering about back and forth, aimlessly so with no reason to hide or spook.
Boohoven eventually lead them down towards a hidden door on the ground floor, hidden behind a bookshelf and an off-white colour unlike the oaken brown of the other doors.  Behind it was another ordinary room, with a single brown chest beneath a weighty-looking chandelier.  To the left of the room however was a staircase heading down into the basement.
	"Do not touch that chest please," warned Boohoven, "it is but a trap for some of our more...unwary visitors."
	"Yeah I bet," said FG snarkily, "I nearly got crushed by one out in the main hall when I came in."
	"Actually," added Koopin shyly, "...that was me.  I was trying to catch up with you and make sure you were alright, but when you ran out of that first room I panicked and leapt onto the couch...it sprang me up in the air and I found myself hanging on the chandelier, I thought I wasn't gonna make that jump to the second floor!"
	"Hhha ha ha ha ha...ohhhh yes, a classic.  Do not worry, just between you and me, the chandeliers never fall completely to the ground.  There is no true harm in them."
Koopin blushed nervously while FG rolled his eyes, as the senior boo lead them down into the basement to explain his story.
	"They told me I could have this record, the one you speak of in exchange for protecting something of theirs.  I thought at first it was quite a large package but the way it looked struck me as being highly suspicious.  I must not have paid any further attention after being enchanted by that record, which I thank you for freeing me from."

The basement was incredibly dusty, moreso than any other part of the mansion.  Huge packages still wrapped and tied piled up in corners.  Ruined withered portraits laid stacked like dominoes against each other.  A grandfather clock stood ornate above all to the right of the stairs, staring down on them from the centre of the back wall, directly opposite a brown door.
Entering past the brown door, they found themselves in a very empty storage room, with barely any crates in it to be properly called storage.  Another door was to their left, but hiding behind a few boxes was a large mailbag, with a child-sized lump within it.
	"Oh don't worry," said Boohoven, "we remembered to leave air holes."
He cautiously undid the bindings of the sack to let out a semi-conscious toad, his head badly bruised but nothing requiring immediate attention, his eyes blearily opening up towards the four looking over him.
	"U-ungh...wha...where am I?  I...G-g-g-ghosts!?!  A-AAGH!"
	"Woah woah calm down," said Boona, "we're not gonna hurt ya, everything's cool now!"
	"Wh-wha...the ghosts, black-cloaked guys, where'd they do?!  Where's my buddy?!"
	"Your friend managed to escape the forest to tell others what happened to you.  Thankfully these two boys came to heed your call."
Boohoven bowed with a flipper out towards James and Koopin with respect, the two of them smiling with a nod as the mailtoad said:
	"Y-you...came to save me?"
	"Sure did," said FG, "your pal ran out the forest screaming about you getting beat up by black-cloaked guys, which I also met and had to deal with."
	"You did?!  S-so they WERE real!  Th-thank you, thank you both for saving me!"
	"So what the hell did they want you for?"
	"Well..."
The mailtoad slowly got up, testing himself for any sore parts of his body.  Thankfully being out for so long had given his body a head-start in healing, and while wounded, he was in a good enough condition to walk unhindered as he explained.
	"I heard them saying they wanted to intercept a message from me.  They traced this package I had that I was to deliver to someone but...I don't know why they took it other than being valuable."
	"What was the package?"
	"I...I don't know, the invoice said it was an artifact, it had first class and treat fragile and everything, top of the line rank!  ...the address was...um...Kola-something?"
	"Artifact?  Kola...kola...kolada...WAIT, Kolorado!?"
	"YEAH, thassit!"
	"Wait really?!" blurted Koopin.  "Why would they wanna steal a package from Kolorado?!"
	"I dunno!" said the mailman.  "I don't even know what'd be inside it!"
	"I got an idea what," said FG darkly.  "Koopin, we better take this guy back and tell Kolorado what happened."
	"You sure?" asked the koopa.  "I mean, what if those cloaked guys have something else planned here?"
	"...wait, wait they did!  They mentioned someone else here they were gonna deal with, some kinda...uhhh...professor?"
	"You mean Kolorado?"
	"No no they mentioned another guy, someone with aaaaa wispy head?"
	"Ahhhhhh," said Boohoven, "you must mean Professor E. Gadd."
	"...E. Gadd?"
	"Indeed!  He has a residence nearby when visiting this region, a well-renowned professor of the spiritual.  He has taken a rather...deep interest in us for many years, though I do not know why these cloaked strangers would want him."
	"Probably to kidnap him as well.  Where does he live?"
	"He lives towards the northwest of us, within a small shack near the edge of a cliff facing towards the Shiver mountains.  He occasionally comes to visit us, so long as he does not interfere with our routines and way of life in his studies, he is welcome.  ...he can be rather TOO curious sometimes."
The sound of discernment was clear in Boohoven's voice, but nevertheless he pointed them towards the northwest as they ascended back upstairs with mailtoad in tow.  Boona took it upon himself to guide the former hostage back home to Toad Town, with sincere apologies from the Boo Manor inhabitants for such events to occur.
James and Koopin headed towards the northwest, curious on what they would find.  Boohoven also said that they would be welcome to come sleep in the mansion for the night, after they met with the professor.