↓ Transcript
"Where did ...," Ace paused to rethink his question. "How did you lose your body?"

The Scottish lilt formed in Ace's mind again, "It's not so much lost. I just can't recognized the place I died. I can get from there to here with just a thought, but and can't travel the Earthly path." Spooky's lips never moved.

"How did you get there?" Ace asked.

Spooky shrugged her shoulders. "I ... fell down the stairs. And when I woke, I was in a dark room with nary a door or window. And naught to eat or drink but foul tasting gin."

"Maybe a well," Ace suggested, "and someone covered it not knowing you were there?"

"Full of gin?" came the spectral answer.

"Maybe," Ace failed to suppress a yawn. "I don't know. Sorry."

"Ack," came from Spooky, "poor lad. You're tired beyond reason and it's my doing. I can fix that."

"You can?" asked Ace.

Spooky floated to her feet as her nightgown slid off her shoulders.


Yeah, even ghostly chicks want him . . .