I sighed as i sat behind a desk in the front lobby of my rather unorthodox business. i could see the sign spelled out in green letters, backward and indecipherable from this angle, but i didn't need to be able to read the sign to know what it said. Ectoplasmic Evictors! got a ghost, goul or phantom problem? call us for a full spirit eviction! i had run this particular business underground for a while, mostly to develop and test the weaponry necessary to expand into a full business, and now i had established my little paranormal extermination venture. i ran my hands over the two weapons concealed behind the desk, one a mundane M1911, the other a small pistol that fired bolts of charged plasma meant for more unnatural threats, the product of years of both laboratory and field testing, as well as a few failed models. i leaned back in the comfortable office chair that was only a few days old, brushing some foam packaging peanuts off of the armrest as i did, and reflected, briefly, on the advertisements that i had sent out a couple of days before hand, searching for people willing to go out and do battle with the paranormal for a decent pay grade. all that's left to do is wait for takers. i thought as my gaze wandered back to the neon green of the sign, accompanied by the idea to get it lighted from behind with actual neon.