Ghosts

It won't be long now.

At least she's comfortable.

- There's definitely worse ways to go. - Mm, amen.

Dysentery was no party.

Shh, I think it is happening.

Ah. I should sing something to ease her transition.

Or perhaps don't make this all about you.

Who are you?

I am the ghost of your great-great-grandmother,

Hetty Woodstone.

Hi, I'm Flower.

I wandered over to your property

from a music festival in the '60s,

and then I tried to befriend a bear.

Drugs were involved.

I am Thorfinn. Uh...

I like herring...

She doesn't need the whole roster.

We are ghosts.

While most spirits pass on to the afterlife,

we are the unfortunate few cursed to spend eternity...

- Oh, and she's gone. -

- Oh, good for her. - So unfair.

She goes up, we stay here.

In Odin's name, why?

Yeah, it's a real drag.

Now what's going to happen to the house?

This house was my pride and joy.

Now it could get sold to God knows who.

Murderers. Perverts.

Irishmen.

Well, there's no use milling about up here.

Shall we go mill about downstairs?

- May as well. - Yeah, sure.

I just hope someone interesting moves in, ya know?

Like a ballplayer, or an astronaut.

Whose life are you guys hoping to watch next?

- Oy. - Oh, be quiet.

Oh, my God, this is the house?

Whoa, so... so we just

- own this now? What's the catch? - No, no. There's no catch.

As I explained to your wife on the phone,

her relative passed away and left her this estate.

Great-Aunt Sophie. I think I met her when I was a kid,

but I-I thought she died years ago.

No, no, she just passed. But the good news is,

you're her next of kin.

Didn't she have a son?

Well, more good news, he actually did die years ago.

- Oh, okay. - Oh, yeah, that's not, um...

How much do you think we could sell this place for?

Assuming we want to sell.

Uh, yeah, we're not moving into a 300-year-old house

in the middle of nowhere, because that would be...

Right, Sam?

Well, it's just we don't know the facts yet.

Obviously, yes, we're probably going to sell.

Yeah.

- He thinks I'm a little impulsive. - Ah, just a smidge.

Well, there are a limited number of buyers

for a property this size, right?

So, you have your bed and breakfast operators...

What if we opened a bed and breakfast?

- Here we go. - Aren't you sick of the city?

No. We work insane hours to live in a shoebox

that we can barely afford,

and somebody's offering us a mansion.

Sam, we don't know the first thing about running a B and B.

You're a chef. That's, like, half of the Bs right there.

Plus, I can write freelance articles from anywhere,

so we have income while we're getting up and running.

That is an annoyingly strong argument, you have to admit it.

Okay, let's do this.

We haven't seen the place,

so we'll go up there for the weekend,

- and then we'll talk about it. - Yes! Thank you.

- It is a really nice place. - It is.

And it's ours, for free.

There's gotta be something wrong with it.

Babe, it's so charming.

What could possibly be wrong with it?

Okay, so, it's the summer of '98.

My Lehman Brothers boys and I, we scooped a copter

to beat the traffic out to the Hamptons,

'cause that's how we roll.

Anyway, we're on a list

for this very exclusive shindig

at Surf Lodge in Montauk.

Tara Reid's birthday.

- 'Nuff said. So... - Yeah, but,

who is Tara Reid?

Seriously? She was a movie star.

Oh. Silent or talkies, sweetheart?

Uh, what is a movie again?

It's the... It's the play that they project on a screen.

We've been through this.

When you say "project"...

What is "play?"?

God, I hate being the most recently dead.

Anyway, yada yada yada, it was a great night. The end.

Okay.

Okay, well, thank you, Trevor,

for that talk of the day on partying.

No, it was very high-level partying.

You don't get it, so, you know, whatever.

All right, well, tomorrow, of course, is food club,

when Thor will be explaining the subtle differences

between types of cod.

It will be similar to salmon lecture,

- but more cod focused. - Ooh.

Oh! Oh! It's one of those...

how you say... it's a ship on land.

Landship! Landship!

It's not a landship, you nincompoop.

That's a horseless carriage.

Bro, check out that body.

Slammin'.

Indeed. He'd have made a fine militiaman.

Holy crap.

Beats the hell out of our fifth-floor walkup, huh?

Okay, yeah, it's impressive,

but can you reach the fridge from your bed?

- I think not. - This air is so clean.

And that guy at the gas station in town...

- What was his name, Carl? - Yeah.

He was folksy, right?

I mean, he did call me a woman for wearing

a video game shirt, which doesn't make any sense,

but, yeah, Carl had a certain charm.

They're coming in.

- Let's go. - Whoa!

Ah, geez, not again.

Wait!

Wow.

Okay, this is huge.

And it's all ours.

I got to admit, it would be nice

to have a little bit of space.

Exactly. New York is full of people.

We're never alone.

This must be them.

The new folks that own the house.

Can you believe this place has been in my family for six generations?

She's a relative of yours, Hetty.

Well, I should hope not, with her exposed knees

and that saucy hairdo.

Wow.

At least it's just the two of them.

There's still plenty of room for us.

Yes. Yes. Two people is manageable.

Limited commotion.

No old lady bedridden while disease eats away at her,

but we knew those good times couldn't last forever.

You know, a young couple could be really fun to watch.

- Oh, hell yeah, they would. - Okay, Trevor.

Before I forget...

- What is that? - Whoa, whoa.

- What are you doing? - This is sage.

- I'm cleansing the space. Oh, come on.

Babe, this is Old House 101.

You light this stuff, and it wards off evil spirits.

- - What did she say?

Does that work?

Do you really believe in that?

Better safe than sorry.

- It's actually delightful. - Oh.

- Yeah, it's divine. - Oh, lemme hit that.

- I would enjoy a... - Is that sage or is that her?

- Reminds me of torched village. - Okay, people, people.

There is enough spirit repellant for all of us.

Jay, we have a library.

- This place is, like, old school rich. - I know.

I did a little research.

Apparently, my ancestors who lived here

were actual robber barons.

Like, cartoon evil, slept-on-a-bed-of-gold types.

I mean, we did that once.

Okay, they actually seem really nice.

They remind me of this couple I was married to

when I was on the commune.

And a little of this couple I was married to

when I was in the cult.

Honestly, it's, like, way more beat up

than in any of the pictures.

Excuse me?

It could use a little TLC, but we can fix it up.

Boy, she is really "can do."

I am rooting for these kids.

I cannot help it.

I'm telling you, babe,

this place is going to make an amazing hotel.

What is "hotel"?

I'll tell you what a hotel is.

A hotel is our worst nightmare.

Every room in this house filled with people

coming and going.

Sleeping in our beds...

Libertines!

And you don't even want to know about the clutter,

Thorfinn, my fastidious Viking friend. Ooh!