[ WP ] You are a ghost haunting an old house . You enjoy listening to the outrageous ghost stories told about you by teenagers who dare to spend the night . Rarely is there any truth to them , but you enjoy the embellishment , most of the time anyway .

I had just settled into my couch for a relaxing night channel surfing and reconnecting with some old high school friends over FacelessBook. Just as I started flipping through channels on the ancient TV, I heard the front door squeak open. I quickly killed the TV and tossed the remote aside. 
 
 `` Did you hear that?'' 
 
 `` Hear what?'' 
 
 `` Over there. Something just got knocked over.'' 
 
 *Oh great, * I thought to myself, *this kid again. * As much as I hated the slimeball, he could really tell a story. Of course, not without his own little twists, but who does n't? I decided to not waste the energy walking. I figured I had made enough noise to lure them to where I was. 
 
 Sure enough, the footsteps creaked closer. *These kids are lucky I'm not a poltergeist, * I mused, sitting up to watch them creep into the room, *they would've been dead before they reached puberty. * The tall one, the one that came here all to often, came and sat on the couch next to me. I saw the goosebumps crawl across his arm as he began to shiver. 
 
 `` You up for show today old man?'' He pulled out a pack of D batteries from his trenchcoat, and set them down on the couch, right in my thigh. I hated him, sure, but his energy is just as good as yours. `` Wish I could bring you something easier to draw from, but building a river is just a bit too much coin.'' 
 
 *Fine by me, I always hated the way running water made me feel. * He obviously could n't hear me, but as I dropped the temperature in the room he understood. I took the time to look over who all he had brought this time. Skater chick, jock, drug dealer, the usual kind of crowd. 
 
 `` Before the spirit can manifest, we must summon him.'' The trenchcoat kid quickly stuffed the batteries under the cushions. `` Everyone stand in a circle.'' I took the opportunity to slip out of the room, but not before draining out a battery or two. It's more like sipping a hot cup of coffee than crushing three Red Bulls. As the long, complicated'summoning' process continued on, I found a nice chair in the kitchen. 
 
 `` Videtur!'' His summoning always ended with some loud cry. That was my queue. I dragged the chair across the wooden floor and toppled it sideways. The usual `` What was that?'' `` Over there? `` I need new pants!'' ensued, as I circled around to where the batteries were stashed. The trenchcoat kid was waiting near the couch. 
 
 `` That's a new one,'' he stammered out, pulling his coat closer to his body, `` I'll just go ahead and start the story.'' 
 
 This kid could go on for hours. My mysteruious past, my grizzly death, and, my favorite part, my most famous spooks. I never knew I threw an elderly woman down the stairs, or that I could even talk to the living! Apparently I'm quite the linguist. The jock is already pissing his pants by the time I throw the dead body down the stairs. 
 
 In a flash, everyone is out the door. *Gets'em every time* 
 

