Squirrels in the Attic

"Call the Ghost Busters!" Ralf shouted running into the living room and tripping over the coffee table.

"Calm down, Ralf," Jazz said getting up off the couch and helping her twin brother stand. "Ranch style houses aren't haunted."

"Jazz, there's a ghost in the attic! I heard it stumbling around up there making a noise like a moose in a china shop."

"Little Brother, that's a bull in a china shop."

"Oh, you heard it too."

Jazz sighed, "The only thing I've heard in the last two hours is you sounding like a panicked matador. Now calm down, before you damage an important part of your body. I'll go into the kitchen and make you a nice hot cup of chamomile tea."

"You don't believe me." He glared at her. Grabbing her by her right arm he pulled her toward the hall closet. "We'll go into the attic and I'll prove it."

"No!" She jerked her arm from his grasp. "I'm not going into the attic. If you want to go up there you can."

"Jazz, I... I can't go alone. The ghost might..."

"Fine! You go into the kitchen and put on the teapot while I ghost hunt in the attic." Shaking her head she went into the hall, opened the closet door, and took out the aluminum ladder. She opened it, then climbed up and pushed open the trapdoor to the attic. Before she could get into the attic a baby red squirrel dropped onto her head.

"Crap!" She shouted removing the squeaking animal and climbing down the ladder. "Ralf!" She shouted hurrying into the kitchen. "Here's your ghost." She handed him the squirrel and went to the telephone.

"Who are you calling, Sis?"

"Animal control to get the squirrels out of our attic."