Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“Nope.”
Wallace groaned. “Then what the hell can we do?”
“Rock a bikini, I guess. You’ve got that down pat.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Never,” Nelson said. “It was enlightening to see that you were a
proponent of manscaping when you were alive. I’d hate to think you’d
neglect it only to spend your time here with a topiary garden in your pants.”
Wallace gaped at him.
Nelson tapped his cane on the floor. “Sit down. I don’t like it when
people hover.”
“I’m not sitting on the floor.”
“Okay,” Nelson said. “Then pull up a chair.”
Wallace turned to do just that, stopping halfway to the nearest table before
he remembered he couldn’t. He frowned as he turned back to Nelson. “That’s
not funny.”
Nelson squinted at him. “It wasn’t supposed to be. I wasn’t telling a joke.
Would you like me to tell you a joke?”
No, he really wouldn’t. “That’s fine, you don’t need to—”
“What is a ghost’s favorite fruit?”
This was definitely Hell. He didn’t care what Mei or Hugo said. “I really
don’t—”
“Booberries.”
Wallace felt his eye twitch. “I can just sit on the floor.”
“What kind of a street does a ghost live on?”
“I don’t care.”
“A dead end.”
Silence.
“Huh,” Nelson said. “Nothing? Really? That was one of my better ones.”
He frowned. “I suppose I can pull out the big guns, if you think it’d help.
What does a ghost do to stay safe in a car? He puts on his sheet belt.”
Wallace sank down to the floor. Apollo was delighted by this, lying down
next to Wallace and rolling onto his back, staring at Wallace pointedly. “No
more. Please. I’ll do anything.” He reached over absentmindedly and
scratched Apollo’s belly.
“Anything?” Nelson said, sounding rather gleeful. “I’ll have to keep that in
mind.”