i live in the most haunted house in the northern hemisphere because i keep buying cursed dolls and cracking them open like pistachios to release the ghosts inside em. see i've got this business idea and it's to unethically harvest their ectoplasm and sell it in little jars like honey. unfortunately i've hit a snag, namely that ectoplasm tastes like shit and also if you ingest it you permanently lose the capacity to feel joy. so now i've got a bunch of unsatisfied customers who are literally impossible to please banging on my door at all hours. it doesn't really matter though because the ghosts are already constantly slamming all my doors and cabinets so it's just a wall of sound in here at all times anyway. i'm pretty sure i've got tinnitus now but on the upside i've got this new business idea where i repair old dolls with kintsugi and sell them at a ridiculous markup to etsy women in cuffed corduroy pants.
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