“Considering what is required for ghostly high tea,” inquired the shade, “what confluence of unfortunate circumstances might have to transpire for a ghostly soup?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” the old man said. “Would you like some? I have oodles.”

“But…but why is soup so easy, if tea is so hard?” the shade said.

“Simple,” the old man said, “soup will vengefully resent being served at anything other than the perfect temperature, and any old ghost bowl will contain it. The aether is full of unsettled ghost soups. We practically swim in it.”

“Then…perhaps ghost stew?” the shade inquired.

“Now I’m afraid that is quite impossible,” the old man said. “For reasons best not gone into. But if you must know, here’s a hint: gelatin.”

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