Jasfoup eyed the remnants of the man with some distaste. "I'm not touching that," he said. "It's all... icky."
"That's fine for you to say." The ghost folded his arms and stared down at his mortal remains which, at the moment, amounted to bones, flesh like the inside of a drain and a gallon of decomposition fluids. They zipped me into a suitcase and left me in the boot of a car. I've had to watch myself swim in that foetid gloop after the air ran out. I wouldn't have minded but you should see the number of parking tickets on the windscreen."
"That's the NCP for you," said the demon. "It's criminal, their daily rate. Look, I'm sorry I didn't collect you at the time. It clashed with something."
"For three months?" The ghost shook his head. "Look, all I'm asking is to take the letter from my jacket pocket and take it to my girlfriend. Post it, even. I don't care."
"Okay. Fine. Just go, already. You're late for your appointment with Eternity." The demon watched the spirit sink into the concrete before walking away. He took a final look as he phoned the police. So he lied? So what. At least the letter would be delivered by someone who carried latex gloves.