Let Sleeping Ghosts Lie?

I had a coffee date with a guy who has an interest in the paranormal and the supernatural. Things like ghosts, the Loch Ness Monster (known as Kempenfelt Kelly in the Barrie area or cryptozoology to the scientifically bent in general). I was looking forward to meeting him. I’m also interested in those things, not so much in ghosts though.

I’m afraid I do believe in ghosts you see. I’d rather not have the experience of finding out I’m right. If that makes sense. I used to see things and my Grandmother talked about ghosts she saw, until she refused to see any more.

The way I see it, anyone who was once human and comes back as a ghost isn’t going to be a happy camper in general. So, I’d rather stick to those who are still human, avoiding the undead, as there are enough monsters and upset, desperate people just among the living. Not that I think many people are like that. But, if you have to deal with someone who is, wouldn’t you prefer they be living rather than deceased? Doesn’t that whole ghost thing just bring in one more element of surprise too many?

Do you believe in ghosts and do you really think you want to find yourself seeing one? Or would you be happy to just wonder about it and let sleeping ghosts lie?

The Tale of the Haunted Can Opener

Think of something not usually haunted and come up with a reason why it is haunted. For instance…

The Tale of the Haunted Can Opener

It all began with Miss Henrietta Millstone and the can of sardines. Poor Henrietta didn’t know you just needed to turn down the key on the lid. She worked really hard trying to open that can wtih the mighty Pink Power Can Blaster 3001 but it did her no good. In the end, Henrietta was fatally wounded when the sardines (contaminated with radition from the pollution in the lake) got into a little cut on her finger from the rough edge of the can she was butchering open. Henrietta died, still holding the can opener, still stubbornly trying to open that can the wrong way.

Now, on pizza night at the sardine cannery, they say you can still hear Henrietta cursing and shrieking about her stubborn can opener. Her ghost is said to roam the halls, still holding her can opener in one hand and the sardine can in the other. You  smell her long before you see her.

Your turn now. Don’t forget to come up with a good name for your ghost.

Haunted Gingerbread House

You get the job of building a haunted gingerbread house for a contest in a foodie magazine. It has to be at least three stories high and about the width of the table you build it on. So you make the design, first on paper and then gradually and with much careful, detailed work, you build the gingerbread house. It turns out really well. The judges are in awe and you’re sure you will at least make it to be one of the finalists.

So you leave it overnight, for the final judging in the morning. You come back to make sure it’s all ok and give it any needed touch ups. It’s so early no one else has arrived and outside it is still fully dark.

There’s a weird mist over your gingerbread creation. It hovers over the whole thing until you take a step closer. Then it seems to get sucked inside the house, through the gaps you left as a front door and windows. Surely it can’t be… your haunted gingerbread house is really haunted. What kind of ghost haunts a gingerbread house?

Sheer Evil Maliciousness

You’re the ghost of a really grumpy, nasty old person. For the last 35 years you have lived in an abandoned house in small town. Only the children know you are there cause you delight in scaring them away from your front gate. No one ever comes to the house. No one has dared to even step onto the front porch in the past 21 years.

But now, there is a real estate developer striding up the front path as if he owns the place! With all your wickedness, nastiness and sheer evil maliciousness, how do you get rid of this confident, professional determined to make a profit by having your house torn down and built into condos and a shopping mall?

Backseat Hitchhiker

On a drive down a country road you pick up a hitchhiker. Not one you can see, it’s something you just sense, a ghost in the backseat of your car. It’s a woman, you just get that feeling. Peeking in the rear view mirror you see nothing but the hair on the back of your neck is standing to attention.

What’s her story, that ghost hitchhiking a ride in your backseat? Was her death a tragedy or just an unfortunate accident?

It Will Take More than Zoo Poo

You’ve inherited a zoo from some relative you only remember hearing whispers about when you were a kid. They said he was eccentric when they were being kind. The zoo is a bit run down, the animals look a bit worse for wear too. Last time the zoo made money was 1968, the year before the local school caught fire and was later demolished. The town nearest to your zoo is all but a ghost town now. You can buy some groceries when you fill up your tank, in the same dingy little truck stop, that’s about it.

You can’t actually sell the zoo, as per the terms of the will. But, you can’t just abandon it either. Those animals need someone to care for them. Most of them look underfed and all of them are underwashed.

Can you turn around this zoo? Can you find a way to bring people back, paying customers? It will take more than selling Zoo Poo (see Toronto Zoo) to get this zoo on it’s feet again.