She was ready to leave almost as soon as they moved into the haunted house.
“We’ll flip it as soon as I get it fixed up,” he promised.
“This place needs a priest, not a handyman,” she countered.
“It’s not that bad.”
“So far this week, I have been woken up by mysterious howling, found threatening messages written on the bathroom mirror, and was chased down the hall by dripping blood!”
“So the house likes to play pranks.”
“Pranks?” She asked, opening the bedroom closet. A pile of skeletons tumbled to the floor.
“This place has good bones,” he protested.

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