Ghost Hunter

“Hold on,” I said, waving the rest of the group back. “I’m getting a reading on my $60 K-II EMF Reader For Ghost Hunting.” The lights on the plastic wand flickered red, yellow, and green. “Is there someone here who lost a relative… Their name starts with… S?”

“ME!” cried an old lady. “My mother. Sally. It’s my mother, isn’t it?! Oh, please, say, it’s my mother!”

I laughed. “Ghost hunting is fake, and when you die, you are gone forever,” I told her. “I owned you, you thought this thing was real, and you got owned.” As she sobbed quietly, I pointed to the others on the ghost hunting tour. “Owned,” I said to each one, as I pointed. “Owned, owned, owned.”