When John Baker bought a trendy five million dollar mansion on Long Island he thought it was a dream come true.  Instead he heard noises in the night and furniture that had been rearranged or gone missing.

“I started hearing voices.  I was concerned that it might be ghosts” said Mr. Baker.

“So I went down into the living room and saw a couple ghosts rearranging my furniture.  I have a window seat.  Everyone who’s seen it likes it.  They always compliment me and say how classy it looks.  Well the ghosts said it should be free-standing and moved it to the center of the living room.  They said it would foster intimacy in my spiritual life.  Now everyone keeps tripping over it.”

Mr. Baker told the ghosts to stop what they were doing and that the window seat would remain where it was.

“The ghosts told me that I should stop being concerned with externals and open myself up to reform.  I don’t mind being haunted but do they have to be so smug?  I would punch them in the face if they had corporeal form.”

Mr. Baker then asked the ghosts why there weren’t speaking Latin, as is traditionally thought ghosts do.

“I’ve read Shakespeare.  I know ghosts only speak Latin. They told me that 40 years ago ghosts got permission to speak in the vernacular.  They said it helped foster dialogue.”

Mr. Baker told the ghosts to leave.  But the next night they were back.

“They took away my fireplace grate.  They said it created a barrier between the peoples of God. Now the rug next to the fireplace is burned and sooty.”

One time Mr. Baker discovered the ghosts throwing opening his windows.

“I asked them why they were doing this.  They said they wanted to bring in fresh air and open up the place to the outside world.  I told them it’s 95 freaking degrees.  I don’t want to open my place up to the outside world, thank you.”

The final straw was when the ghosts invited Mr. Baker to roast marshmallows with them.

“I put the marshmallow on a stick and put it in the fireplace.  I was about to eat a little bit from the stick when they told me to put the marshmallow directly on my hand. They said it was in keeping with pastoral needs. Now my hand is burned.”

Mr. Baker ordered all the ghosts out of his house.

“I told them to get the hell out and never come back. They told me I was a slave to authority, preconciliar and not open to the spirit.  I hate reforming ghosts.”

Since the ghosts left Mr. Baker spends every night on the front porch with a shotgun  just in case they decide to come back.

“They haven’t returned.  I did have a decapitated ghost show up once.  I thought it might be the headless horseman.  Turns out it was Ted Williams.  I gave him directions to Boston.”

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