Closer The Ghost
The Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard wandered hither and thither around the parking lot he'd landed in for a long time... he tried talking to lamp posts and trash cans, haunting broken down cars and hitting on secretaries as they dug through over-full purses for keys, cursing to themselves for having too much crap in their bags. All of his attempts ended the same: complete ambivalence from the world around him. The closest he got to a reaction was rattling chains in the back of an executives Porsche as the executive backed out of his personal parking space... "fucking mechanic" was all he said. This elevated the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard's spirits immensely, it's really tough living in a world that won't talk back to you, so even an off the cuff admonition directed toward someone else but caused by you is a reason for celebration (To the executive's credit, his fan belt was loose and squealing a little, so really, he might not have heard the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard's rattling at all... but we'll let the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard have his moment).
It took quite a while before the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard discovered that, not only could he inhabit the parking lot, but the industrial complex to which it was attached could also be wandered aimlessly through. Ghosts, as I've repeated before, are not bright, nor are they quick... but they are generally earnest and driven... and have a lot of time on their hands. So one day, following a buxom blonde, the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard found himself in the lobby of Yoyodine Incorporated staring at another buxom blonde receptionist. He kept himself busy for a few days talking to lamps and trash cans since that's what he was used to in the parking lot. He regaled the items with tails from his childhood (like the time he found his daddy's dirty picture magazines under the mattress while he was playing monopoly with himself (as a child, he wasn't too terribly familiar with the rules of monopoly, just its basic thrust, if you will... which lead him to all sorts of non-traditional monopoly based territory). After he discovered that men have pictures of nekkid women under their beds, the Erstwhile Jr. Lundegard felt pretty ashamed that he had no such images residing beneath his place of slumber. He thought that, maybe all his maladies sprang from his not having these night-time talismans of manhood. To rectify this unmanly weakness, he endeavored to draw a life size nekkid girl but got stymied by the stubborn shapes of feet. Wavy hair, pert breasts, shapely necks, waists and calves all came naturally to him, but try as he might, again and again, the feet never looked real to him. How could a nekkid girl walk around with misshaped feet, her breasts didn't matter if she had to drag herself around by her hands... the image was useless. Finally, after weeks of trial and mostly error, the Erstwhile Jr. Lundegard folded up his drawing so only the ankles were showing and pleaded with the Erstwhile Sr. Lundegard to draw a pair of feet for him. the Erstwhile Sr. Lundegard obliged in a haze of herbal inhalants and apathy. This was the closest the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard and his father ever came to having a heart to heart about sex). The objects were non-plussed, having heard much stranger stories before.
It took quite a while before the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard discovered that, not only could he inhabit the parking lot, but the industrial complex to which it was attached could also be wandered aimlessly through. Ghosts, as I've repeated before, are not bright, nor are they quick... but they are generally earnest and driven... and have a lot of time on their hands. So one day, following a buxom blonde, the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard found himself in the lobby of Yoyodine Incorporated staring at another buxom blonde receptionist. He kept himself busy for a few days talking to lamps and trash cans since that's what he was used to in the parking lot. He regaled the items with tails from his childhood (like the time he found his daddy's dirty picture magazines under the mattress while he was playing monopoly with himself (as a child, he wasn't too terribly familiar with the rules of monopoly, just its basic thrust, if you will... which lead him to all sorts of non-traditional monopoly based territory). After he discovered that men have pictures of nekkid women under their beds, the Erstwhile Jr. Lundegard felt pretty ashamed that he had no such images residing beneath his place of slumber. He thought that, maybe all his maladies sprang from his not having these night-time talismans of manhood. To rectify this unmanly weakness, he endeavored to draw a life size nekkid girl but got stymied by the stubborn shapes of feet. Wavy hair, pert breasts, shapely necks, waists and calves all came naturally to him, but try as he might, again and again, the feet never looked real to him. How could a nekkid girl walk around with misshaped feet, her breasts didn't matter if she had to drag herself around by her hands... the image was useless. Finally, after weeks of trial and mostly error, the Erstwhile Jr. Lundegard folded up his drawing so only the ankles were showing and pleaded with the Erstwhile Sr. Lundegard to draw a pair of feet for him. the Erstwhile Sr. Lundegard obliged in a haze of herbal inhalants and apathy. This was the closest the Erstwhile Mr. Lundegard and his father ever came to having a heart to heart about sex). The objects were non-plussed, having heard much stranger stories before.