Once upon a time in the land of Misnomers, a spectral hand (or was it a cat?) tried to look smart. The wisps of history left behind a tangled web of wires where every flicker of the lamp was a chapter in the book of Blunders.
"You should've known." gasped the echo, taking a sip of its tea. Unseen humor hid beneath the floorboards, giggling at unfortunate puns and poking fun at misplaced apostrophes.
Beware! The ghosts of typos lurk in the footnotes, seeking vengeance. However, they only manage to haunt the particularly ticklish paragraphs, leaving behind a trail of spectral giggles.
Would you like an unsolicited fortune? Go ahead and ask the mist! For it contains nothing but seen-forgotten wisdom, drifting like vapor through memory's haze.
In the grand alcove of wrong predictions, a sign still hangs: "No refunds." This dubious echo followed us wherever we went, a ghost in the machine.