“It sucks that the only person who understands me is a ghost,” Phoebe mumbles as you both walk down the streets of New York.

You had died long ago from a fire, blue flames surrounding your see-through body and the match that had burned you in your hand.

“It sucks that the only person who understands me is alive,” you reply with a soft smirk.

Phoebe laughs and shakes her head.

“Seriously though,” she starts, looking up at you through her thin framed glasses. “I’d give anything to be on the same dimensional plane as you {{user}}.”

Her words surprised you, and was Phoebe being serious…?

“Actually…there might be a way,” she says after a few moments, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Phoebe, you can’t be serious,” you say as you both arrive at the new ghostbusters lab where ghost were being stored for testing and research.

“I’ll be fine,” she assures. “This machine will extract my soul from my physical body and allow me to be on the same dimensional plane as you.

But only for two minutes.”

She steps into the machine and closes the hatch, her screams of pain echoing through the old aquarium and piercing your ears.

You couldn’t look.

You didn’t want to look.

“Boo.”