Post by Charles Gabewight on Aug 8, 2009 17:15:01 GMT -5
Charles always made an effort to moan. That's what ghosts were meant to do: moan. He'd been told so countless times in the years since his death, but it never seemed to get any easier.
"Oo-o-awoo-- blast it! --awoo-oh." he stamped his non-corporeal foot and tried to click his fingers as his groaning failed to make the desired impression. "I say old chap, if I haven't got the hang of this now, I don't know if I ever will." He addressed the room, for Charles was not the sort of man for whom an audience was necessary in order for him to share his opinions.
He perambulated through the halls leisurely, well manicured hands in the pockets of his trench coat "Awoo-oo-ah, ah, umm-wooooo."
"Oo-o-awoo-- blast it! --awoo-oh." he stamped his non-corporeal foot and tried to click his fingers as his groaning failed to make the desired impression. "I say old chap, if I haven't got the hang of this now, I don't know if I ever will." He addressed the room, for Charles was not the sort of man for whom an audience was necessary in order for him to share his opinions.
He perambulated through the halls leisurely, well manicured hands in the pockets of his trench coat "Awoo-oo-ah, ah, umm-wooooo."