This last piece was news to me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Fred, yawning over a cup of coffee.
“Really? A goat’s head?” I asked.
He grunted.
“No mystery there. Just a warning by the locals. If we get rid of their ghost or discredit it somehow, well, no more holidayers coming to buy Sad Ghost tee-shirts.” He sipped his coffee, and I noticed the ghostly and tearful rendition of my acquaintance from last night printed there on his mug.
“But we’re giving them legitimacy,” I said.
“Tell them that,” said Fred.
“Tell the goat,” mumbled the newbie.
Tale Told 