“Ghouls are brainless killers. There has to be a central directing intelligence,” said Bob. “I once knew a *****...I won’t say where or her name but that being said, she was the oldest working ******* that particular stroll, and in fact the mother of all the other ****** for generations going back to her youth.”
“Very colorful tale, Roberto, but we’ll got other things...”
“No no no. I’m making a point,” said Bob going to the liquor tray and pouring a glass of sherry. “The oldest ***** was the mother of all the other ******. So wouldn’t it make sense that the oldest ghoul is the spiritus familia of the rest?”
“Yes, yes, but where on earth are we going to find the world’s oldest ghost?”
“We’ll have to go further back in time than anyone has ever gone,” Bob pronounced portentously.
You’ll have to go further back than anyone will ever go to find the first person who ever died.”
The professor added his theoretical wisdom of the subject: “Roberto, you must beware of the paradise paradox. What will you do if you go back so far no one has yet died?”
“I’ll have to **** someone. Perhaps beat Cain to the mark. Maybe I’ll **** Cain himself, if there’s any truth to the fable.”