I’d be a terrible ghost. You really don’t want me haunting you. I’ve purposely left a ton of things undone so that I have unfinished business, thus ensuring I’d be stuck here as a ghost. So, that’s not in question. I have like a baker’s dozen emails in my draft box that are just a half sentence they all end in, “but then” with nothing following. I hold in my farts. I have a bunch of houseplants that I intend on planting outside. I do everything half-assed. I’ll drink half a bottle of wine and re-cork it. They’re sitting everywhere around my house like an alcoholic version of Signs. There’s business to finish for me, so I have no choice, I needs to come back a-ghostin’.
That part, however, has nothing to do with you. The reason I’m telling you this is, since you are reading this, you are my conduit to the living world. Each and every click, you’re entering an abandoned insane asylum that is my brain. The thing is, sometimes, when you visit a haunted place, troubled spirits follow you home, I learned that from The 6th Sense (I learn most things I know from M. Night Shyamalan movies.)
I have yet to tell you why I’d be an awful spectral companion. Well, I. am. a. morning person! Oogie boogie! If that’s not bad enough, I cuss a lot and I am very clumsy. Good luck sleeping through that.
Okay, still not convinced. You know how in the movie Ghost (not an M. Night film! TWIST!) Patrick Swayze spends a lot of time figuring out how to make a coin move? I’d do that, except with bodily excretions. I would spend my purgatory trying to make my spectral goo tangible. All styles of bodily fluids I could generate. One day I’ll make sure that ghost-vomit becomes manifest.
I wouldn’t hurt anyone, I’d just mess with your thermostat. Well, I guess I’d hurt people indirectly through psychological torture and sleep deprivation. Do you remember that scene in Ghostbusters when a ghost apparently gives oral sex? (That phrasing sounds like an alien trying to pass as human, “I am a person, I likes the chicken been breaded and giving the oral sexes.”) Well, I wouldn’t be blowing anyone, but I would flick a few taints. There would also be a high level of Dutch Ovens (not the cooking kind).
Also, I’m not taking my clothes with me into the afterlife. None of this, “oh, it looked like the ghost was wearing a zoot suit and smoking cloves so I’m not sure if it was from the late 90’s or the early 20’s.” No, it would be more like, “I couldn’t tell what I was seeing, it was like one giant blurry nipple with the buttocks of a 70 year old.”
Look, I don’t WANT to haunt anyone, I just want to incentivize you in keeping me in the land of the living. The point is, it is in all of your best interests to keep me alive. Maybe assign me a personal EMT, anything to not make me your spectral roommate.