Argh! Shiver me timber leg! Here ye lubbers are, goin' on about llamers an' sheep an' pigs an' paramecium fer all I knows, and not one of ye has a good word ta say about us ghosties! Do ye take us fer unfeeling, cold, spirits jes' because we've shuffled off the mortal coil, as the poet says?

Says I, if ye can't support a relationship with us that is gone, then we can't support you, ye great lump of mortality! If ye truly cared, ye'd get rid of them dolls and things and concentrate on them as counts! Why, we even votes in places like Chicago!

Ectoplasmic marriage, that's what I says!