I Drink My Tea With Sarcasm, Thank You.

It was a normal day in London, or as normal as it could be in a world where Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts roamed free. The cloudy skies and the prospect of rain did nothing to dampen the spirits of the people of London, for they were always smiling. But these were not happy smiles. No, these were smiles meant to fool the ghosts, for in this world, the only way to avoid having your soul reaped was to use sarcasm as a defense mechanism.

The Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts were the stuff of nightmares. They were ethereal entities, transparent and shimmering, with intricate snowflake-like patterns etched into their bodies. They were beautiful and terrifying all at once, and they roamed the streets of London, waiting for a chance to strike.

The appearance of the ghosts was deceptive, for they were not the harmless, whimsical beings that their snowflake patterns suggested. They were predators, and their sole purpose was to reap the souls of the living. They would slip into a person's body and extract their soul, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk. It was a cruel fate and one that the people of London feared more than anything.

Despite their fearsome reputation, the Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts were not invincible. They were vulnerable to the power of sarcasm, and the people of London had learned to use this to their advantage. They would hurt the feelings of the ghosts with their cutting wit, making them flee in tears. It was a dangerous game, but it was the only way to survive in a world where the ghosts were always lurking, waiting for a chance to strike.

In this world, people had to act the opposite of what they felt to avoid being attacked by the Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts. It was common to see people walking around without an umbrella on a rainy day, smiling even though they were sad. The ghosts could sense a person's emotions and use that as an opportunity to attack.

People in London had to be constantly on guard, always ready to put up a front and hide their true feelings. They would make jokes about the rain soaking them to the bone, all the while grinning from ear to ear. They would laugh at the most inappropriate times, to throw the ghosts off their scent. It was a life of constant performance, but it was a necessary one.

The ghosts were everywhere, waiting for an opportunity to attack. They would sneak into a person's body and reap their soul, leaving nothing behind but a hollow shell. It was a cruel existence, but the people of London were resilient. They had developed a unique sense of humor, one that was dark and sarcastic, a defense mechanism against the ghosts.

And talking about sarcasm as a defense mechanism, at the distance in the streets of Soho, one could hear a fierce battle. Not one being fought with swords or guns, but a very sharp tongue:

"Oh look, it's a Snowflake Soul-Reaper. I was hoping for a real ghost, not just a pansy spirit."

"If you're going to try to take my soul, at least have the decency to bring a proper mug of tea with you."

"Oh, a ghost is here to reap my soul? I'd be more scared if you had a personality."

"You must be new at this soul-reaping business. I've never seen a ghost cry so much."

"You may have a snowflake pattern, but you don't have the balls to actually reap a soul."

"Do you realize how transparent you look? It's like looking through a window, but not as interesting."

"Do you realize how unoriginal you are? Every ghost is the same, just with a different snowflake pattern."

All the insults full of unbridled sarcasm and dryness harsher than the Sahara desert came from the protector-in-chief of London, Spencer Sarkázein. The Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts were absolutely devastated by Spencer's insults. They would wail and cry, their crystal transparent bodies shaking with sobs.

Their intricate snowflake-like patterns would ripple with their distress, and they would often flee the scene, unable to bear the hurtful words of the hero of London. Spencer's sarcasm was a literal defense mechanism, a way to protect himself and those around him from the ghost's soul-reaping powers. And it was incredibly effective. The ghosts would retreat, defeated and in tears, leaving the people of London safe and sound, if not a little amused by Spencer's antics.

Spencer was known for his dry wit and brutal sarcasm. He was the only one who could save the city from the ghosts and their insatiable thirst for souls for he could fight an army of them alone. You normally can only be so original with sarcasm, especially when you are scared of a Ghost that is going to reap your soul out if he is in front of you. But Spencer had what can only be described as an unending, unlimited, and bountiful supply of the driest and sharpest sarcasm a person can muster.

After that fight with that bunch of ghosts was over, Spencer got hungry. And he wants to eat his favorite dish, good old Fish n' chips. And there was only one place that had what he considered the best fish n' chips in the world. The problem is that he had to go to the deserted town of Lewes. The town was overrun by ghosts in the past before people could adjust to acting oppositely and almost nobody would dare to go there. But when it came to tea and fish n' chips, Spencer would not compromise.

Furthermore, Spencer would not go alone. He was accompanied by his faithful Springer Spaniel, Edmund. Had already traveled to Lewes multiple times but that never made the trip easier or safer. Spencer had to always keep his guard up.

While on the trajectory to the pub that served his favorite fish n' chips, they encountered dozens of Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts. Spencer was ready, and he let loose with a barrage of insults and sarcasm that left the ghosts reeling and crying. But as Spencer and Edmund continued their journey, they were ambushed by a massive horde of ghosts, and Edmund was captured.

Spencer was not about to give up his beloved dog without a fight. He knew he had to be clever to defeat the horde of ghosts that surrounded him. Spencer started to insult the ghost's appearance and their lack of intelligence. The ghosts were caught off guard and started to feel embarrassed. Spencer's quick wit and sarcastic comments made them feel small and powerless.

"Oh, great. A ghost with zero personality. Just what I wanted for lunch."

"You know what would be more frightening than seeing you? Not seeing you at all."

"If you wanted to scare me, you should have at least brushed up on your haunting skills. This is just embarrassing."

"If I wanted to talk to a pale, intangible being, I'd call my ex."

"Your scary presence is like a children's haunted house, all talk, and no action."

"Oh, I'm so scared, is that your best ghostly impression or are you just constipated?"

Spencer continued to use sarcasm to keep the ghosts at bay. He made fun of their inability to touch or hold anything and their lack of physical form. The ghosts were so hurt by Spencer's comments that they started to fade away. Spencer's quick thinking and sharp tongue were too much for the ghosts to handle. And so they disappeared. Spencer then ran toward his beloved dog and hugged him with a sly smile.

Finally, after some time, Spencer and Edmund arrived at their favorite pub, which was surprisingly not attacked by the ghosts. The reason was that the owner and cook of the pub was none other than Spencer's father, William Sarkázein. William was the previous protector-in-chief of London against the ghosts and had trained Spencer in the ways of sarcasm.

"Oh, Spencer! It's so heartwarming to see how you've taken after me. It's like looking in a mirror, only much, much younger and less talented."

"Thanks, Dad. It's not every day you get a compliment from a master of insults like yourself."

"Well, I do what I can. I mean, I am the one who taught you everything you know about being sarcastic."

"And yet, somehow, I still manage to come out ahead. Must be my charming personality."

"Charming? Ha! More like inherited stubbornness. You get that from your mother, bless her soul."

The two father and son greeted each other with insults, but it was clear that their love for each other ran deep. They shared a meal of fish n' chips done by William's secret recipe and regaled each other with stories of their battles against the Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts. And as they laughed and joked, they knew that for as long as they had each other and their wit, the ghosts would never be able to take their souls.

We may insult each other from time to time, but a lot of times we are saying to our loved ones sarcastically I love you.