I was terribly excited when I thought my ghost was Elvis. I mean, having a ghost was nothing too special, not these days, but when my first clue was the assembled banana-bacon-peanut butter sandwich, I was sure that I'd hit the big time. Elvis--and not trapped in a repetitive loop in a toilet stall, either. I could rent the place out to a nightclub, or maybe sell tickets myself, I thought. Sure, you couldn't actually hear ghosts, but there were ways you could make them more visible, and if he felt... read more
