Pacifica glanced at the phone, gasping as it rang thrice. This was not so much a feat in itself, yet the addition of floating five feet in the air made it a gasp-able event. Her hand daintily hiding her open mouth, she backed away from the supernatural event. The last time she had witnessed events such as this, a dead lumberjack had attempted to split her skull. She cowered in the corner, whimpering silently for a saviour.
"Isn't it just spooky?" Mr Pines said, his abnormally potato-shaped nose wobbling slightly. "It's haunted by the ghost of a grandmother who died after her kids stopped answer her calls. Now, her spirit lives in the telephone, and anyone who answers the phone will DIE!"
"Pacifica, are you alright?" A squeaky voice from the celling called.
"Celling people don't speak." Mr Pines hit the wall, and with a thud, Dipper fell to the ground, tangled in fishing line. The floating phone had also fallen. Dipper got up and lent a hand to Pacifica. She fell forward, her lips brushing his ear.
"It's his nose."
"What?" Dipper pulled back, a confused face emerging. He turned to see Mr Pines selling a an overpriced stuffed badger. Pacifica pulled him back closer.
"Most people are entrapped by those ears of his, but I can't get passed that nose of his."
"Wow." Dipper laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "I guess I just didn't scare you with the haunted phone.
"Please. As if that piece of junk could frighten me." She checked her phone. "I need help. There's a ghost haunting my house."
"Again?" Dipper took the journal out of a vest pocket far too small for it, and began to flick through.
"The likelihood of having another ghost in a place that a category ten has been is astronomically small. You see, "Dipper explained, quoting someone Pacifica had never met, "When a ghost a certain size, smaller ghost gravitate towards it, and are absorbed into the larger ghost. This in turn increases the size of the ghost which increases the number of ghosts that are absorbed by it etcetera etcetera." Dipper slammed the book and made a hand gesture.
"Ri-i-i-ight. Well, we have a ghost, and I need you to get rid of it. We're having a party on Friday. "
"This seems like awfully familiar circumstances as last time I got rid of a ghost at your mansion." Dipper stroked his non-existent beard.
"Yeah, well," Pacifica flicked her inhuman locks. "The limo is in front of the diner."
"That's a mile away. Why can't you bring it here?"
"I don't want to be associated with this dump, obviously." She dodged out of the door and onto a tandem bike.
"The limo leaves in twenty minutes, and try to look… respectable. Sergio, yip yip." Both Pacifica and her Ukrainian-Spanish trainer biked away, leaving Dipper in what Pacifica hoped to be a state of abrupt confusion.