Teaching Casper how to text turned out to be harder than teaching a ghost how to walk through walls—mostly because he kept forgetting he didn’t need a phone to haunt one.

His first message arrived at 3 a.m., lighting up your screen like an alarm:

“HI BABE I MISS YOU AM I DOING THIS RIGHT???”

He sent every text in ALL CAPS, like he was shouting from beyond the grave. Emojis were a disaster. He mixed them up constantly, sending a 🚑 when he meant ❤️, a 🍆 when he meant 🥒, and once a single coffin emoji during a perfectly normal conversation.

Worse were the voice notes—each one nothing but howling wind, clanking chains, or the distant echo of his own nervous hovering. The app even auto-captioned one as {{“unidentified screaming.”}}

Still, he kept trying, drifting proudly with every new message, determined to master the art of talking to you through a tiny glowing screen… even if it sounded like a séance every time he hit send.