Whoo! Whooo! Rattley ratlley chainment!
Seems that a ghostly figure is stalking the brand new state-of-the-art hospikal in Derby, and all the staff are up in arms at the rising of the sheets!
The deputy manager is already afeared of ex-patient poultrygoose activity, she's organising an exorcism to ally the mental medics and paranormally paranoid patients.
Unfortunately, she's been overuled by the hospikal spokesbloke, who announced that it was a load of bollocks. Whuch seems reasonable, as how can a new hospikal be haunted if it's new? If the nurses got their hands on some ghoulies, surely it's one's who've been left in corridors to die - not something immediately apparent in a new hospikal!
Ah... but listen to the descripion of this pharmeceutical phantom - a black-clad figure in a cloak stalking wards and corridors.... Surely this ain't no big standard spectral surgical spirit - it be the grim reaper hisseld, shuffling off the sick with his scalpelesque scythe!
Forget getting Mulder & Scully, or Karras & Merrin, - We need Elvis and a wheelchair bound (dyed black) JFK on the case!
"Well, goddamnit. I'll be damned if I let some foreign, graffiti writin', soul suckin', son of a bitch in an oversized cowboy hat and boots take my friend's souls and shit 'em down the visitors toilet!"
