The Neitherworld Academy

The spectral halls of The Neitherworld Academy for Recently Departed echoed with the sighs of teenage ghosts, a melancholic chorus far more profound than any earthly detention. Forget algebra and history; here, the curriculum revolved around mastering the ethereal arts – the subtle chill, the disembodied whisper, the art of politely rattling chains. And presiding over this peculiar institution, with a manic grin and a striped suit that seemed to defy the very laws of the deceased, was Dean Beetlejuice. This wasn't your average afterlife; this was school, and class was perpetually in session.