"I'm not joking. You're really terrible at being a ghost," Agent said. "It's true that this is your first time being a ghost, but haven't you ever watched a horror movie? Look at the ghosts in those movies. They show up for a few dozen minutes and kill dozens of people. Now look at you. How many days have we been here? Where the hell have you been? Even if you'd gone to Hawaii for a vacation, you should've been back by now, right?!"
"Every day, it's just looking for clues, looking for clues, listening to dialogue, listening to dialogue. The plot is stinky and ridiculously long, and it won't even let us skip it. And it gives out clues in pieces, a little here and a little there. Here's what you do: buy a plane ticket right now, fly to Gotham on the East Coast, go to Arkham Asylum, find Edward Nygma, kick him out, and become the Riddler yourself!"
"A perfectly good ghost, and you either scare people or kill people. You've been here for nearly a week, and all you managed was a fake resurrection incident. I can tell now, you really are a country bumpkin. If you'd worked in a big city for even a few days, you'd know that with performance like yours, you'd be fired in two days!"
"And you actually have the nerve to ask why I shot you. If I hadn't fired, would you have sat here chatting with me until dark?!"
Agent shook the gun in his hand and said, "This isn't a gun. This is my fucking homemade plot-skip button!!!"
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Agent fired five shots in a row, blasting Peter straight out of the church doors. He held up the gun and said, "You came to