THE END.

“ come on, man, is it much further? i’m cold.”

“ how did you find this place anyway?”

“ oh, i am so not going in there.”

“ we came all the way out here, might as well check it out.”

“ let’s just hurry this up and get back to the car, alright?”

“ want me to hold your hand?”

“ ew. shut up, you loser!”

“ ooh, look, it’s the evil root cellar. where satan cans all his vegetables.”

“ get your candy-ass down here and see for yourself.”

“ i don’t see anything scary. do you?”

“ what? what is it?”

“ ha-ha. very funny.”

“ not a lot of scenery here. kind of gotta make your own.”

“ we’re not kids anymore.”

“ we’re not gonna start that crap up again.”

“ that prank stuff. it’s stupid and it always escalates.”

“ what’s the matter? you afraid you’re gonna get a little nair in your shampoo again, huh?”

“ all right. just remember you started it.”

“ most of those websites wouldn’t know a ghost if it bit them in the persqueeter.”

“ there’s no harm checking this thing out.”

“ it was the scariest thing i saw in my whole life, i swear to god.”

“ i think it was blood.”

“ i had my eyes closed the whole time.”

“ rumor has it you might know about one.”

“ i didn’t think there was anything to the story.”

“ i don’t know what the hell to think, man…”

“ this was not a prank. i swear to god, i don’t wanna go anywhere near that house ever again.”

“ that’s exactly why you never get laid.”

“ hey, what about this one? you seen this one before?”

“ what are you doing here?”

“ what the hell are YOU doing here?”

“ i belong here. i’m a professional.”

“ oh, you gotta be kidding me.”

“ and i know who you are too… an amateur.”

“ so if you don’t mind. i’m trying to conduct a serious, scientific investigation here.”

“ huh. so, have you ever really seen a ghost before, or…?”

“ dude, come on, man. we did our digging. this one’s a bust.”

“ i say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals.”

“ that’s all you got? it’s weak. that is bush league.”

“ why do i have to go in there?”

“ i’ll take the homicidal ghost, thanks.”

“ would you ever take that dare?”

“ hello? is anybody there?”

“ i think maybe we missed something.”

“ i don’t believe it.”

“ i got an idea.”

“ who you gonna call?”

“ come on, we don’t have much time.”

“ i dare you to take a swig of this.”

“ what the hell would i do that for?”

“ i double dare you.”

“ i hate rats.”

“ you rather it was a ghost?”

“ what the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?”

“ maybe we should just go.”

“ sweet lord of the rings…”

“ it’s bugging the hell outta me.”

“ this whole damn job’s bugging me.”

“ that explains why it went after you, but why me?”

“ i thought it was funny at first, but… now that girl/guy is dead.”

“ it was just a joke. you know, i mean - none of it was real. we made the whole thing up. i swear.”

“ hey, where were you?”

“ hey, why don’t you get dressed? i wanna go grab something to eat.”

“ dude, what’s your problem?”

“ people believe in santa claus. how come i’m not getting hooked up every christmas?”

“ because you’re a bad person.”

“ how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

“ man, i think i’m allergic to our soap or something.”

“ you did this? you’re a frigging jerk.”

“ no, no, no. NO, forget it. forget it! i’m not going back in there again.”

“ i know, but i’ve never actually seen a real ghost before. like, a real ghost! like, an apparition!”

“W.W.B.D. what would buffy do? huh?”

“ oh, look at that. action figures in their original packaging. what a shock.”

“ why should i trust you?”

“ well, i have an obligation to kick your little ass right now.”

“ slow your roll, buddy. they’re gonna know we’re excited.”

“ if you pull that string one more time, i’m gonna kill you.”

“ come on, man. you need more laughter in your life.”

“ you know, you’re way too tense.”

“ you didn’t.”

“ i barely have any skin left on my palm.”

“ what the hell are you trying to do? get yourself killed?”

“ so these - these guns don’t work?”

“ come and get it you ugly son of a bitch.”

“ that’s your solution? burn the whole damn place to the ground?”

“ it’s fast and dirty, but it works.”

“ little lingo for ya.”

“ anywho, excuse me. i’m off to la-la-land.”

“ well, congratulations, that sounds really great.”

“ oh, yeah, luck, it’s got nothing to do with it. it’s about talent. you know, sheer, unabashed talent.”

“ i’m the one who put a dead fish in their backseat.”

“ truce?”

Moodboard: Apocalypse

“So this is where we are,

rebel archer is my son who i would die for so have some deets for him