Okay, technically this is a haunt on a table. Although, in order for a place to be haunted, its haunted-ness must come from somewhere. A haunted tree isn’t bestowed the quality of “haunted” simply by living in a haunted wood, or forbidden forest. That doesn’t happen until some ghost (or meandering kelpie) decides to take up housekeeping.
Now, the argument can be made that any tree in a haunted wood is itself haunted, to which my reply is: While all Juggalos live in trailer parks, not all trailer parks are inhabited only by Juggalos.
So I suppose, by virtue of its resident haunt, an “action set” I made for Mrs. Spookyblue, which is in turn haunted by a pair of tiny ghosts, a Sheepdog, and a little Golden Retriever, the table is actually haunted.
On October 31 of last year, it slammed into Snug Harbor like a pissed off freight train. Maybe if the storm had swept through there wouldn’t have been as much to clean up. But it hung out for a while, drank too much, and generally made an ass of itself.
Shadow Wood’s one and only hotel was a particularly pitiful mess on the morning of November first, which fired up public opinion and fueled the political will to resurrect this historic … structure. The refurbishment project began in August, closing two north-bound lanes of a nearby interstate for no apparent reason, and was successfully completed weeks later.