Salutations from beyond the grave,

Hey Babs. It’s me, Chester, the eco-friendly ghost who haunts your house. I’ve been watching you ever since you moved in last month. I can tell you really love living in Wine Country, because you’ve spent all your time filling the house with endless wine collections, hideous wine racks from IKEA, and butt-ugly wine art. But enough of the wine, Babs. There are more pressing matters, like the climate Armageddon taking a huge shit on us. Oceans are rising, extreme weather is raging, and the earth looks like a flaming hot Cheetos Ball. And did you even realize before moving here that Northern California is plagued by never-ending wildfires and drought? The situation is dire, Babs, because if your house burns down, you won’t have a place to live, and I won’t have a place to haunt. Plus, these rising temperatures are really messing with my favorite cold spots.

We need to act now if we’re going to save your precious dying grapes, your melting cheese boards, and your spooky-ass house, aka my favorite place to haunt ever. Since we’re roommates, I think it’s time we team up and take on the climate apocalypse with some eco-friendly home improvement projects.

I’ve been ready to get started, but you’ve ignored all my ideas. The other morning, I painted these words in goat’s blood on your living room wall, “BOO! IT’S ME, CHESTER, THE GHOST WHO HAUNTS YOUR HOUSE! PLEASE INSTALL SOLAR PHOTOVOLTAIC PANELS WITH MICRO-INVERTERS ON THE ROOF SO WE CAN GENERATE ENERGY FROM THE SUN! THANKS!” 

It should have been the first thing you saw when you came home, but you didn’t even glance at my masterpiece. Instead, you got a text from your friend Gladys saying, “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere!” Then you grabbed a bottle of Merlot and darted out to meet your friends for a titillating night of wine bingo. 

When Operation Goat’s Blood failed, I decided to scribble a message for you on your foggy bathroom mirror. When you stepped out of the shower after wasting hot water for 30 minutes, you glanced at my message, which read, “BOO! IT’S ME, CHESTER, THE GHOST WHO HAUNTS YOUR HOUSE! SINCE WE’RE IN THE BATHROOM, LET’S TALK ABOUT INSTALLING SOME WATER-EFFICIENT TOILET FIXTURES!”

But right then, the doorbell rang. You ran off to open the door for Gladys, who said, “Are you ready for some grape stomping?!” First of all, gross. Second of all, you completely forgot about my toilet idea. I felt like a real asshole.  

Since Operation Foggy Mirror was a complete disgrace, I knew it was time to turn to dolls. Unfortunately, you don’t own any old, scary, porcelain dolls. You only have the Baby Yoda doll, and he’s a dumbass. When I tried to channel my message through him, it came out all Yoda-esque, “BOO! CHESTER, THE GHOST WHO HAUNTS YOUR HOUSE, I AM! INSTALL L.E.D. ENERGY EFFICIENT LIGHTS, YOU MUST! HAVE A BLAST FLICKERING THEM, I DO!” 

It sounded ridiculous. You just giggled, patted him on the head, and said, “Drink together, we shall!” Then you offered little Grogu some Cabernet in a sippy cup.

Since Operation Baby Yoda was a huge embarrassment, I decided to communicate through your alphabet fridge magnets. You had initially used them to spell, “I DRINK AND I KNOW THINGS.” No, you do not. Anyway, when I was done, my message read, “BOO! IT’S ME, CHESTER, THE GHOST WHO HAUNTS YOUR HOUSE! PLEASE BUILD AN INDOOR LIVING WALL TO REDUCE TEMPERATURES, REMOVE AIR POLLUTANTS AND INCREASE BIODIVERSITY! THANKS!” 

That’s when you drunkenly stumbled into the kitchen and yelled, “Chardonnay all day!” Then you saw your reflection in the fridge door, winked at yourself, and said, “You look like I need wine!” But did you read my carefully thought-out fridge magnets? No, you did not.

Later that week, Gladys came over and you took the Ouija board out. “THE PERFECT WAY TO HAUNT SOMEONE!” I thought. As I used my powers to push the planchette across the board, I spelled, “BOO! IT’S ME, CHESTER, THE GHOST WHO HAUNTS YOUR HOUSE! PLEASE INSTALL A WATER CATCHMENT SYSTEM SO WE CAN LIVE OFF THE GRID AND REDUCE SOIL EROSION, FLOODING, AND POLLUTION! THANKS!”

You gasped, and I was certain I had finally gotten through to you. Then you turned to Gladys, and said, “Did you vring any Pibot Grigio? We just finithed my lasth botthol.”

I’m so disappointed, Babs. Also, as your roommate, I feel ignored. Anyway, please think over all my ideas, and reply to this email whenever you want to get cracking on my home improvement projects. I’ll keep an eye on my inbox.

Until then, I’ll keep hoping the world doesn’t end and our house doesn’t get swallowed up by Satan’s asshole.

Until my next haunting, 
Chester, the Ghost Who Haunts Your House