Exorcisms? I’ve assisted in at least six over the last century. The lead fiend typically summons me right when the fight is nearly lost, and my abilities to demonstrate demon know-how in a soul-at-stake crisis has led several bosses to expect a specter of superior talent. 

Hauntings? No problem. Trick-or-treaters are a specialty—I’ll wave the branches of a tree, or quietly remove all the candy at the bottom of the pillowcase before the costumed tot returns home—but I’ve handled menacing larger residences, mostly Victorian and older but also some newer, suburban domiciles. Condos on occasion. Flats often, especially if the person is not from Britain but insists on calling their apartment a flat.

I’m affectionately known as “The Groaner” among former co-workers, and I guess I would say that groaning just has that classic spooky ring, no update needed. Waving branches, groaning from the cobwebby top of a shadowy staircase, and rattling rattable objects are all second nature to me. In short, mastering the classics is my forte, but I do crave a fresh challenge.

I have, with enthusiasm:

  • Implemented innovative ways to terrify without the on-the-nose overuse of rusty chains; I created a system where shaking shackles are simply the aural appetizer to a more prolonged cacophony of spirit voices, unearthly yowls and, of course, additional “ooh-oohing” when required
  • Supported, through my branch-waving capabilities, a well-regarded werewolf in the overtaking a prominent archduke’s carriage; later made suggestions, which were kindly considered by the werewolf and his pack, regarding how carriages might be more easily and quickly capsized if jumped just before the vehicle enters the moors, not after
  • Delivered livers
  • Liaised malaise
  • Headed headless horsemen focus groups
  • Animated myriad household objects without supervision, and later received special commendation for turning all the clock faces to the walls (a technique now being employed widely, but for which I ask no credit)
  • Fostered better working relations between sprites and brownies
  • Made yams yammer and cooked turkeys stand and shimmy at countless holiday tables
  • Researched search parties before sending a seven-clawed beast after them; later critiqued the seven-clawed beast on the overall foaminess of his maw and general hissing aptitude, with excellent results
  • Workshopped new ways to turn previously unhauntable household items—an article torn from a magazine or cat flap—into items brimming with dread and foreboding
  • Controlled trolls
  • Pulled off the pulling off of bed covers
  • Motivated zombies
  • Volunteered for a variety of got-to-get-it-done tasks, including the rocking of empty cradles, whispering in cats’ ears, tipping of séance tables, and the subtle stirring leaves into whirlwinds, again all without direction from my supervisor

While it has been an honor to help “groan” my colleagues to success in their endeavors, whether we’re sending frightened new tenants speeding away from their dream mansion or showing a gentleman the back of his head as he gazes at the bathroom mirror during his morning shave (an area of expertise for me), I desire growth. Possessing people no longer possesses me, and while there are millions of branches left to wave around the world, I know that there are many other gifted branch-wavers eager to gently unsettle passersby below.
In short, I’m looking to branch out beyond branch-waving.
I realize in your ad you said you’re looking for someone who knows how to work with spreadsheets and decipher algorithms, and I do not. You wanted someone who can create a dynamic vision for the company while treating each team player fairly and with respect, and I often make people bawl and quake. You wanted someone who can type 100 words a minute and has mastery with most photo programs. I mostly make keyboards and computers fall off desks without human touch or provocation, or sometimes fly through doorways if I’m working on bonus.
But you also said you wanted a self-starter, and that is certainly me. Yes, I’m a self-startler, too, but I’m ready to move forward.

I know you’ll read many stellar résumés, and I thank you for your consideration. If this opportunity doesn’t seem a good fit, please think of me next time you see a branch tranquilly waving overhead or you hear a cup and saucer rattle in your cupboard. I can also recommend a few flower-screamers in my acquaintance who would bring some oomph, and necessary decibels, to your brand. Or perhaps this one moist bunch of sentient mosses, which doesn’t do much generally but could likely handle an important slide presentation if given a chance. And a clean towel to rest upon as well.