AcmeShorts

“Duuude, Iiiiiimmmmm goooinnnnnggggg to graaaabb anotttthhhher beeeeeeeerrrrrr, oooooookayyyyyyy?” It was that fucking ghost again, and surprise-surprise, he wanted another freaking beer. My beer.

“Yeah sure dude, but can you use a coaster, this time,” I replied, feigning my best deferential tone, but came off passive-aggressive nonetheless. He was a ghost, and a real asshole, but he was my friend. I mean I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But I had just gotten the coffee table from the Door Store and I didn’t want to mess it up.

“Toootaaaallllyyyyyy, duuude,” he moaned, cracking open a frosty one, floating in to the living room and slouching on my couch. “Whennnn izzzz the gaaaame on,” he groaned grabbing the remote control out of my hand. What’s new.

The first time I saw the ghost he was peeking his head out of my bedroom closet while I was making love to my wife. His head just materialized right through the closed door. He saw the look of shock crawl across my face and put his finger to his mouth signaling me to be quiet. I didn’t want to alarm my wife, so I continued to make love to her. Meanwhile the ghost kept flashing me the thumbs-up signs and raising the roof, mouthing the words “oh yeah” all the while. Afterward, he poked his ghostly right pointer finger in and out through a whole he made with his left hand and in his spectral diction asked: "Doesss yooouuurr wife haaave aaannnyyyy frieeeends?"

Before he began to manifest himself as a specter in my house, the ghost had been Hunter “T-Bone” Fleetwood -- my best friend. It had taken me months to get back to a centered place, you know, emotionally, after Hunter’s death. Since he has returned as a ghost he has just been hanging around my house, eating my food, drinking my booze and making my wife uncomfortable, to say the least, with being “intimate.” Its especially difficult cause me and Molly, that’s my wife, we’ve been talking about having a baby. She keeps threatening to leave me if I don’t do something about it. But T-Bone's gonna be T-Bone.

The ghost appeared so much that his phantasmic form became commonplace around the house. It always seems to have the worst timing. I had planned all week on enjoying this new documentary about different community efforts to fight corporatization of water and other natural resources.

“Listen, I don’t mean to be a pain, but me and Molly really wanted to watch PBS tonight,” I said tentatively, hoping he would take the hint. “It’s tackling an important issue.”

“Peeeeeeee Beeeeeeeeee Essssssssssss is liiiiikeeeee toootaaaallllllyyyyy gaaayyyyyyyyyy, duuuuuuude,” he moaned back putting the beer down on my new coffee table without a coaster. “Nooowwww letttsssss gettttt dowwnnnnn to braasssssss taaaackkkssss. Whhheennnn arrrrreee youuuuuu goingggggg to getttt lucckkkkyy agggaainnnnn? I waaannnntt anotthhhherrrrr freeeee shoowwwwwww! Knowwwww whaaat Iiiiiii meeeeaaannnnnnnn? Huh? Youuuuuu knowwwwwww? Yeahhh!”