It was a grammatical nightmare and a digital plague-rat of a link. But Lydia hadn’t heard from the ghost with the most in thirty-five years. Not since she’d tricked him into being devoured by a sandworm. He owed her a haunting. Or an apology.
“Trap?” Beetlejuice looked offended. “It’s a marketing strategy . I need a comeback. The afterlife’s got new ghouls—slick ghosts with podcasts, demons with skincare routines. I’m a relic. So I made a fake sequel trailer, uploaded it to every ‘123 Free Movies’ pirate site I could haunt, and waited for a Deetz to bite.”
From the monitor, a striped suit sleeve shot out, grabbed a handful of packing peanuts, and pulled. Beetlejuice oozed onto her office rug, pixelated and buffering. He was frozen mid-laugh, then snapped into focus. beetlejuice 2 123 free movies
And somewhere in the digital abyss, a sandworm started buffering.
She clicked.
As they sank into the floorboards, the laptop’s webcam flicked on. A live stream titled “Beetlejuice 2: LIVE from Lydia’s Living Room” appeared on a dozen shady movie sites. The view count: 123.
“Two stars,” Beetlejuice said proudly. “One reviewer said it gave him existential dread and a virus that turned his printer into a ouija board.” It was a grammatical nightmare and a digital
Beetlejuice grinned, revealing teeth like a row of cracked tombstones. “Real? Kid, everything’s real on the ‘123 Free Movies’ server. It’s the Ninth Circle of the Internet. Pop-up ads that steal your soul. Buffering wheels that spin for centuries. And the movies …” He leaned in, breath smelling of formaldehyde and licorice. “…are all low-res, cam-rip disasters filmed by a zombie with shaky hands.”