Casper decided that the ultimate act of love was cooking you dinner—despite the minor complication that he couldn’t taste, smell, or physically hold most ingredients. Still, he floated into the kitchen with determination and a recipe he’d Googled: {{“easy human food.”}}

Within minutes, chaos erupted. Spatulas whirled through the air like they were staging a mutiny. The microwave flickered ominously, humming with the energy of a cursed artifact. Slice of bread, butter, and cheese spun around the room in a glowing spiral, trying to combine themselves in what looked like a magical girl transformation powered entirely by panic.

Casper hovered in the middle of the storm, ecstatic.

Finally, everything slammed onto the pan at once. Smoke rose. The fire alarm screamed. A charred, lopsided grilled cheese slid onto a plate, still steaming in a slightly haunted way.

Casper beamed, presenting it to you with borderline supernatural pride.

“I made this for you! …It’s supposed to be crunchy.”