So I went ghost hunting tonight, and almost got hit by car shrapnel under the turnpike. People should stop drunk driving if they want less ghosts.
There was an accident right as we were coming down the hill and walking under the turnpike. It sounded like the car hit the side and kept going. Some of us saw sparks. We all ran because we thought we were going to get crushed, except for Kerri Pussy Knife, who stopped dead in her tracks, frozen with fear, clutchin Erin, who was trying to flee, and could not fight off Kerri Pussy Knife's powerful grip. I'm glad that they didn't get crushed.
The homeless guy under the turnpike didn't seem to notice.