The afterlife has taken a whole lot of getting used to for Snake. In a lot of ways it's the same as in the world of the living, ghosts don't need to do stuff like eat or sleep, but a lot of them still do, just for something to do. There's no need for ghost money or ghost jobs, which is a big improvement in Snake's opinion.
Although one thing that really blows is that there's no TV. Not in the way he's used to, anyway. In his ghost apartment there's a ghost television set, but he's never gonna find out how The Sopranos ends - in hindsight he really should've started that show sooner - all he can do is tune into the lives of the people he knew in the living world. Which, he has to admit, is actually better than any halfbaked soap opera he's ever seen. Plus, he's had the opportunity to catch up with all his old buddies who bit the big one before him.
He's had the opportunity to take up new hobbies and rekindle his interest in old ones that he never had enough time for in the living world. Which was great at first, but after a while it began to lose its shine. Most days, he's bored out of his skull.
So he's pretty excited when he gets a call on behalf of the Ghost Council summoning him for an important mission.
Ghosts aren't bound by the same laws of physics that govern the living, so they can drift and zoom around freely, but it's pretty usual to see ghosts walking around too. Like with eating and sleeping, ghosts kinda crave normality. But today is not a walking day for Snake. He goes straight through the wall of his apartment, gives a quick wave to a couple of ghost pals he sees out on the street, then zooms off towards Ghost City Hall.
Snake drifts into the room he was told to go to, and sees a young man wearing army fatigues in shades of white and grey, his dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He looks familiar somehow. But this can't be the guy he was looking for.
"Hey hey, what's all this then? I'm here to meet some important guy but all I see is some wimpy looking kid. What gives?"
The young man turns to face him. "Who are you calling wimpy looking? You're one to talk. What's a matter, life got too hard for you once you hit middle age? Just couldn't help letting yourself go, huh?" he says, poking Snake in the stomach.
"Hey, I ain't gonna stand for that-" Snake begins, but then finds himself frowning. "Wait, you look familiar. You look a lot like Terry when he was young."
A smile crosses the man's face, making him look even younger. "Yeah, I noticed Terry started growing his hair out like mine after I died. Well, you know what they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." He crosses his arms. "He coulda flattered me while I was still alive, know what I'm saying?"
Snake laughs. Now he knows where he's seen this man before. Army guy. Long hair. Why did he not realise until now? "I think I've seen you in a photograph."
The man nods and extends a hand. "They call me Ponytail. Nice to meet you."
"Snake. Likewise," he says, concentrating so he can shake Ponytail's hand. Ghosts can touch each other and stuff too, but if they don't concentrate they go right through things.
Ponytail grins. "Ha, guess we both rejected the names our mommas gave us, huh?"
Snake clenches his fists. He's worked a lot on not reacting violently to yo momma jokes, and well, any mention of moms. He looks into the distance for a moment, thinking about how it was once his dearest wish to have a momma to insult. "Yeah, something like that."
"It's because of Terry that I've been sent to meet you. You ain't been in the afterlife for long so you might not be aware, but on rare occassions we can be sent back to the land of the living to help those we knew when we were alive."
"Oh hell yeah! Finally some real ghost shit!"
Ponytail grins, momentarily caught up in Snake's excitement, then a stern look belonging to someone far older than he is crosses his face. "Come on man, we've got to take this seriously. I've been around for a lot longer than you have, so I'll be your mentor. But you got a lot more years with Twig than I did, so that's why I need you, you'll be best at convincing him."
Snake frowns. "Wait, Twig?"
"Yeah, that was his nickname back in the army. Didn't you know?"
Snake laughs and shakes his head. "He never told me! How'd he end up with a nickname like that?"
"Because he was so skinny, like a twig that a strong wind coulda blown over."
Snake laughs. "Skinny? Terry?"
"Yeah, maybe we shouldn't have been so hard on him. I saw how hard he pushed himself to put on some muscle. It was just boys being boys, you know? Meant in an affectionate way. Like me, stuck being called Ponytail for all eternity, who woulda thunk it? Anyway, stop derailing me. We need to get down there and talk to Terry to stop the disaster."
Snake's been watching Terry on television, and even if they hadn't been so close before he kicked the bucket, Terry lives the most interesting life of everyone he knows, so that's hands down his favourite ghost channel. "Disaster? What disaster?" he asks.
"It's best you don't know. We can't tell the living what's gonna happen in the future. At best they'll freak out, at worst, they'll go and make it worse."
Right now all Terry's doing is causing some mischief at a competition, it might be a big one, but it's still a competition for kids. Snake can't imagine how that could end in disaster. "Oh, come on, you're no fun."
"Trust me, it's for your own good."
"If you want me to take you seriously as my mentor, you're gonna have to start telling me stuff."
Snake crosses his arms and tries to stare Ponytail down. For a while, Ponytail just stares back.
"Oh, okay. I don't think it's possible to actually say what will happen down there anyway, I think they have some way of stopping us. Someone's gonna die. And that's only the start of it. Trust me, you don't wanna see what's gonna happen."
Snake just looks at Ponytail for a moment. "What, that's it? Someone's gonna die? So what? I died. You died," he says, waving his arms around. "All of these people here died. Why'd no-one come and prevent my death? Ain't I important too?"
"I dunno, buddy. I don't make the rules," Ponytail says. "I sure wish someone had come to prevent my death. You had a whole lot more years than I did."
"Hey, enough with the jabs about my age! At least you lived fast, died young, left a beautiful ghost, right?" Snake grins, proud of that quip.
Ponytail doesn't seem to find it funny. "Did Terry not tell you how I died?"
Snake slumps his shoulders. "Yeah. He did. One time when he was really drunk," he says. "Sorry about that, man."
Ponytail shrugs like it doesn't matter, but his expression says otherwise. "What happened, happened," he says hollowly.
"Least it weren't you own fault like me," Snake says. He shakes his head. "Never shoulda got behind the wheel that night."
"You can't change the past, but you can change the future. I've read some amazing accounts about what a huge difference ghosts have made!"
"Well, what if I don't wanna prevent some other loser's death?" Snake crosses his arms. He can't let go of the thought that some ghost could've come and told him not to drive that night, and they didn't. The injustice of it.
Ponytail sighs. "Well if I can't appeal to your better nature," he says. "Come on man, where's your respect for authority?"
Snake scoffs. "I dunno, must've fallen outta my pocket or something."
Ponytail doesn't seem to find that funny either. He looks really frustrated now, and starts flexing his hands into fists. "But I thought you were pumped to finally do some ghost shit? And this might be your only chance to go back to the world of the living and talk to Twig, I mean Terry again. Looked to me like you two were pretty close."
"Yeah, he was like a father to me. Nah, he was my father. My real parents didn't want me, dunno why. Me and Dennis, he took us in, raised us like his own. Hey, wait, if I go I'll get to talk to Dennis again too!"
"Sorry buddy, I'm afraid not. We only get to talk to one person, that's all."
"Well the rules suck! I don't see why I should follow them. I wanna at least say goodbye to Dennis now I've got another chance to," he says, then adds quietly, "I know he misses me. I miss him."
"Well you can try, but from what I know, only our designated person can hear us."
"Designated person? That's what they call them? Shouldn't it be something spooky like, I dunno, haunt-ee?"
"Eh, sure, we can call him that if it'll make you come with me," Ponytail says. "So, are you in? We haven't got much time."
Snake pulls at his white t-shirt. "If I say yes, do I finally get some clothes that ain't white?"
Ponytail shakes his head. "You get what you get, I'm afraid. Ghost rules," he says with a shrug.
"Aw, nuts. Ghost rules suck."
"Quit whining and hurry it up, we gotta go see the Living World Registrar."
Ponytail drifts through the wall and down a corridor, and Snake follows.
The Living World Registrar sits behind a large ghost desk and has a whole bunch of ghost forms ready for them, including a fancy official-looking ghost contract. She tells them to read everything before signing them. Snake skims through them and signs and initials wherever he's expected to, figuring if he has any questions he can just ask Ponytail. He seems to know all about this stuff.
"Now, these permits will allow you to enter the living world for a maximum of one day," the registrar tells them. "If you outstay your allotted time, you'll be sucked back up here."
Snake giggles, and glances at Ponytail, who is trying to keep a straight face.
"It isn't a pleasant experience, so I recommend taking the elevator back here before your time runs out," the registrar continues. "At the end of the day, you must come back to me and submit your reports in writing. If your mission is incomplete, you may be granted an extension to your permit." She looks at Snake. "Now I assume you are the leader of this mission?"
"Yeah," Snake says with a grin, before Ponytail elbows him out of the way.
"No, I am," Ponytail says, and the registrar switches around the ghost permits that she is holding out.
Snake looks at his permit, and underneath the offical ghost seals, there's a blank space, the words designated person and then another space. As he takes hold of it, his name appears at the top underneath the seals, and in the space and under designated person appears Terry Silver.
"Aw, if we've got magic writing up here, why couldn't we use that to sign all those stupid forms?" Snake says, after Ponytail thanks the registrar and they leave the room.
"I suppose it is magic, in a way. You see, permits aren't given out for any particular living person, they only work for whoever's left in the living world that we were closest to in life. That's why we were selected for this mission."
"Hey, I ain't complaining."
Ponytail shakes his head. "Oh yeah, I certainly ain't heard no complaining from you."
The ghost elevator down to the land of the living is guarded by officials in white robes who regard them with suspicion. Both of them show their ghost permits, and the guards stand aside to let them through. At first the ghost elevator seems exciting, but after the first five minutes of riding it, the novelty has worn off.
On the way, Ponytail fills in Snake with what he's allowed to tell him, and they talk about what exactly they should say to Terry.
"I dunno man, this ain't gonna be easy," Snake says. "Those last few months, we were kinda doing our own things, but Terry would call me up and go on rants about that guy for hours on end. Okay, maybe not hours, but you get the picture. Isn't there another way?"
"I don't see one. Those two are at the centre of it all. But Terry's a smart guy. He'll see sense if we explain it to him. We're not asking the earth, just for him to make up with his oldest friend. I don't know exactly what happened between them, but they used to be so close. They can't stay mad at each other forever. How hard can it be?"
"Yeah, you're right. If two ghosts came to me and warned me about the future, I'd have taken more notice of that than some dumb DUI! This is gonna be a piece of cake!"