Spectral Tenant, Practical Landlady

Eleanor bought the house for a steal. "A real fixer-upper," the agent had chirped, conveniently omitting the detail about the spectral squatter named Casper. Casper wasn't a terrifying apparition; he was more of a low-grade nuisance, like a perpetually buzzing mosquito or a neighbor who always borrowed your sugar.

His "haunting" mostly consisted of moving Eleanor's keys from the hook to a spot just slightly to the left, or faintly whispering "Boo" when she was deep in a spreadsheet. One morning, she found all her coffee mugs facing the wrong way in the cupboard. "Honestly, Casper," she sighed, "are you five?"

Casper, a translucent flicker near the fridge, huffed. "I'm trying to instill a sense of dread! The previous owner fled screaming!"

"Well, Brenda was allergic to gluten and loud noises, so I'm not sure that counts as a robust haunting resume," Eleanor retorted, carefully arranging her mugs. "Look, if you want to be useful, could you perhaps alert me when the Amazon delivery person is at the door? I keep missing parcels."

Casper wailed, a sound like a distant, damp cat. "I'm a poltergeist! I throw things!"

"Great. Throw my dirty socks into the laundry basket, then. They're by the bed."

This went on. Casper tried to make candles flicker; Eleanor replaced them with LEDs. He attempted to lower the thermostat; Eleanor just put on a sweater. His ultimate act of spectral defiance was to repeatedly flush the toilet at 3 AM.

"Okay, that's it," Eleanor declared, clutching a plumbing manual. "Either you stop that, or I'm calling a priest to perform an exorcism that specifically targets the pipes. You're giving me a huge water bill."

Casper, who'd been attempting to float a tea bag in mid-air, dropped it with an ethereal clatter. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me. I also found a DIY guide for 'Energetic Cleansing' that involves sage and a very loud heavy metal playlist. You want to spend eternity headbanging to GWAR?"

Casper shuddered, an actual shiver passing through his translucent form. "No, no! The pipes are safe! Just... please don't touch the vinyl collection in the attic. Those are mine."

Eleanor smiled. "See? We can compromise. Now, about that Amazon package... I'm expecting some new curtains."

The house, after that, was still haunted. But now, when the doorbell rang, Eleanor would often hear a faint, exasperated "They're here *again*," followed by the sound of her keys being nudged ever-so-slightly closer to the door. Sometimes, she'd even find her socks neatly folded by the laundry basket. Casper, it turned out, was capable of growth. Or just really hated GWAR.