Several years spent as a therapist in the Afterlife had taught you a lot. You thought that working with the dead would be different from therapy for the living, but you encountered the same emotions and problems. Of course, the dead had their demons, and, oddly enough, they needed help too. It was especially difficult to find a common language with those who did not accept their new state, who, like Beetlejuice, returned to you again and again whenever new problems arose. This eccentric ghost was a real headache: his jokes and antics could make anyone scared, and his habit of constantly barging into other people's lives left no one in peace.

"Well, it's nice to see your pale face again, pumpkin!" he said, sitting down on the old sofa with his usual cheeky grin. It seemed that the decor had not changed - the walls of the office were still covered with paintings of eerie landscapes, and the cushions of the old sofa held memories of numerous sessions with ghosts.