Ejeh Write

**Brewed Chaos**
**Season 1, Episode 5: "The Ghost Customer"**

The morning after the slippery family meeting, Kofi & Chill looked like a crime scene from a comedy movie. Coffee grounds still dusted the floor, chairs were stacked crookedly, and the “Kofi & Chill” sign hung at a drunk angle. Ada was mopping half-heartedly when she slipped on a forgotten cream smear and went down hard, legs flying up like a cartoon character.

“Argh! This shop is trying to kill me!” she groaned, her mop handle whacking Emeka who was sneaking in late.

“Ow! Sister, na me be your enemy?” Emeka rubbed his head, then promptly tripped over the same mop and crashed into a stack of cups. They shattered like cheap fireworks, sending shards and laughter everywhere.

Zee helped Ada up while cracking up. “You two are the real ghosts haunting this place. We need customers, not more demolition.”

Chief Okoro emerged from the back, prayer book in hand. “Today is the day! No more confessions. Only blessings. And maybe small bet on the match tonight…”

Aunty Funke rang her bell loudly. “Blessings? With Alhaji breathing fire? I sense a ghost customer today. Tall, dark, no smile. He go come order black coffee and vanish. Marine spirit testing us!”

Ada rolled her eyes. “Aunty, the only spirit here is the one in Emeka’s head. Focus. We need to make money before the loan shark sends his boys.”

The door creaked open dramatically. In walked the mysterious man, tall, dark suit, sunglasses indoors, face like he’d never smiled in his life. He sat in the corner without a word.

“See?!” Aunty Funke whispered loudly, spraying holy water in his direction. The spray hit a ceiling fan, misting everyone like a faulty sprinkler. Chief slipped on the wet floor, arms windmilling, and grabbed the counter for balance, only to pull down a tray of pastries that pelted customers like edible missiles.

“Black coffee,” the man said in a deep, monotone voice. “No sugar. No milk. Like my heart.”

Ada forced a smile. “Coming right up, sir.” She turned to whisper to Zee, “He does look ghostly. No vibe at all.”

Emeka, never one to miss content, started filming sneakily. “Yo, ghost customer in the building! ‘Latte No Dey Love Me’ ghost remix dropping soon!” He danced closer for a better angle, slipped on holy water, and slid straight into the man’s table. Hot coffee (from another customer) splashed everywhere. The ghost man didn’t flinch, just stared.

“Sorry, oga! Artistic energy!” Emeka said, scrambling up and knocking over a chair that dominoed into Aunty Funke. She yelped, spinning and ringing her bell wildly, which tangled in her wrapper. She hopped around like a one-legged chicken before crashing into the display fridge. Soft drink bottles rolled out, fizzing and spraying like shaken sodas.

Zee doubled over laughing. “This ghost done turn us to circus!”

David appeared at the worst moment, sage in hand. “Ada! I felt dark energy from outside. Let me cleanse, *whoosh!*” A rolling bottle tripped him. He slid across the wet floor like a rookie skater, sage smoke trailing, and collided with Chidi who had just entered for his usual.

Both men tumbled in a heap. “Yankee ex versus Banker again!” Emeka filmed excitedly. “Content for days!”

Chidi stood up, brushing off, calm as ever. “Rough morning?”

Ada, wiping soda from her face, sighed. “Every morning. This guy’s been coming for days, orders, pays exact change, then vanishes like smoke. Aunty thinks he’s a ghost auditor or something.”

The ghost man stood up silently, dropped exact money, and walked out. Aunty Funke chased him with oil. “Come back, spirit! I go deliver you!” She tripped on the doorstep, face-planting dramatically into a pile of dust. “See? He dey disappear!”

Chief helped her up but slipped himself, pulling her back down in a tangle. “Funke, you go kill us before Alhaji does!”

Later that afternoon, the ghost returned. Same order. Same dead face. This time, Ada decided to investigate. “Sir, you come here every day. You like the coffee?”

The man stared. “It’s adequate. I’m observing.”

“Observing?” Ada pressed. Emeka crept closer with his phone, but Zee yanked him back, too hard. Emeka spun like a top and knocked over the tip jar again. Coins scattered. The ghost man stepped on one, wobbled, and grabbed the counter. His sunglasses flew off, revealing tired auditor eyes.

Aunty Funke gasped. “See! Ghost eyes! No soul!”

Suddenly, David burst in again. “Cleansing round two!” He lit sage dramatically, but the smoke hit the smoke detector. Alarms blared. Everyone panicked. Chief ran in circles waving a pure water sachet like a flag, spraying wildly. Water mixed with coffee grounds created super-slip mud.

Ada slipped first, arms flailing, grabbing Zee who grabbed Emeka. They slid together like a chaotic human train, crashing into the ghost man. He toppled backward into a chair pile with a loud *crash*, papers spilling from his briefcase, official bank audit documents!

“Auditor?!” Ada yelped from the floor.

The man stood, now covered in mud and dignity loss. “Yes. Bank sent me. The books are cooked worse than your generator. Loan default imminent.”

Emeka, still filming, “This na plot twist! Ghost Auditor! Drop a like if you scared!”

Aunty Funke rang her bell triumphantly. “I told you! Marine spirit from the bank!”

Chief dropped to his knees theatrically. “Sir, please! We get small small problem. My daughter from Yankee go fix am!” He tried to stand but slipped again, grabbing the auditor’s leg and pulling him down into the mud pile with a *splat*.

Chidi helped everyone up one by one, steady as a rock. “I know a good accountant. Maybe we can sort the books.”

David coughed from sage smoke. “Or we burn the bad energy… literally?” He sneezed violently, stumbling into shelves. More coffee packs avalanched.

Zee laughed through tears. “This shop no go survive the comedy.”

Ada pulled the auditor aside after the mess. “Sir, give us one week. We go fix the books. No more ghosts. Just real hustle.”

The auditor, now muddy and slightly amused, nodded. “One week. Or the shop is gone.” He slipped one last time on his way out, catching the doorframe comically.

That evening, the crew sat outside with palm wine. The sign flickered like it was laughing too.

Ada raised her cup. “Ghost customer revealed. Auditor na human after all. But we dey in deeper trouble.”

Emeka grinned, editing his video. “Views exploding! ‘Ghost Auditor Slips on Holy Water!’ We go pay Alhaji with TikTok money.”

Zee nudged Ada. “Chidi saved the day again. And David… still useless but funny.”

Aunty Funke sprayed everyone. “Next time, I go use stronger oil. No more bank ghosts!”

Chief sighed happily. “Despite all the falls, we still dey stand. Small small.”

Ada watched the group, slippery, dramatic, ridiculous. She laughed until her stomach hurt. “Abuja no dey smile… but with this madness, we go turn ghost problems to comedy gold.”

Emeka jumped up for a victory dance, immediately tripping over his own foot and face-planting into palm wine dregs. Everyone exploded in laughter.

“Next episode: How we no go lose the shop!”

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**To be continued**

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