Date #1	Date #2
Lorne Greene's Ghost	A Rotting Hog
Lorne Greene's ghost picks you up in a spectral chariot drawn by a team of pale Netherworld stallions. Greene seems withdrawn and troubled. You ask him what's the matter and he hisses, bearing his thin fangs at you.	The Rotting hog asks you to meet him in the dumpster behind "Charlie The Butcher's" at closing time. You ask the hog if he has any brothers or sisters, but his mouth gapes and the only response is a trickle of bloody sputum.
Lorne Greene tells you that in order to stay sane, he must be constantly solving difficult math problems in his head, and to "Leave [him] the Hell alone."	You squeeze a colored pencil between the hog's toes, and he proceeds to scribble an epic poem about love and bravery, entitled "Horseradish Blues."
Greene's ghost takes you to an ice cream stand made out of an old caboose and tells you how God threw him out of Heaven for chewing tobacco and peeing in the sink. "If you can't pee in the sink," Greene says, "then where the fuck do you get off calling it Heaven?"	You carry the hog to the beach for a relaxing sundown stroll, but you are quickly overcome by seagulls, who pluck the eyes out of your date and revel in fighting over them.
After explaining to Greene that women are allowed to vote, he violently takes you by the throat and chokes you unconscious. When you wake up, you see Greene stooped over a crushed waffle cone, trying to subtract the number of crumbs from his own age divided by six.	You use the hog's gaping lower jaw to uncork a bottle of Chilean Merlot. As you pour it down his throat, his stomach ruptures, spraying you with jellied maggots and partially digested gruel.
Lorne Greene's ghost asks you if there has been to any advancement in the thawing out of cryogenically frozen heads, and wants to know how long you think a penis suspended in liquid nitrogen is good for.	As you drive, the hog manages put in his George Winston tape, and points his eyeholes toward you longingly, as the sweet sounds of a solitary piano play on the speakers.
On your way to the bar, Greene bets you that he can chew his way through the floor. Before you can respond he does so, growling like an animal.	The rotting hog, which you've learned is named Stephan, hangs limply over your shoulder and runs its dry tongue across your cheek as the two of you share a "Perfect Appletini" at Fridays.
As Lorne drops you off in front of your house, he promises that you "Haven't seen the last of him, not by a fucking long-shot," before disappearing in a swirling black vortex.	As you fling the hog back into his dumpster, a family of raccoons fall to devouring him, but not before a tear-colored liquid rolls down his cheek, and his withered lips mouth the words of Dean Martin's touching hymn, "Return to Me."