"His body died. His soul didn't go where it was supposed to go. And souls are more durable than that. I don't know why, but I also know that dead people can't be crazy. Here.. let's see if he's still in there, shall we?"
Weird walked over to the table and rapped his fist down on the surface, making a loud pounding sound.
"Armok's beard, ya swarmy bastard! Can't the dead get some quiet! Have some respect, ya!?" Shouted the table.
"Yup. Still in there allright. Listen mr ghosty pants! Either come out of that table this instant, or I'll send you on the wildest ride of your unnaturally extended life!"
The table lurched toward the hall a few inches, before blaring out obstinately:
"Why don' ya just waltz o're here an' make me, ya girly tart!"
Wierds face turned red.
"Have it your way..." weird scowled, snatching up the plaster chunk from the floor, and angrily going back to work on the sigil.
Eric tried to force his way into the room, but Roead stopped him bodily.
"Out of the way, 'king tuten-teriaki'! I gotta stop that moron!"
"Ain't happnen mate!" The mummy laughed, extending his dessicated frame to completely block the door.
"You don't want to make that circle." Eric intoned, eyes fixated at weird.
Weird sat the plaster down, and looked whimsically at the ceiling.
"Let me think.... nope. Still gonna do it!" He said, picking the plster chunk back up.
"Take yer bes' shot, ya freakin fairy!" Shouted the table.
Weird abruptly stood up, and examined the absurdly intricate scrollwork drawn on the rhyolite floor.
"Have it your way, mr table!" Weird laughed, grabbing hold of one of the legs, and pulling it toward the center of the circle.
"Hey! Lemme go!" Shouted the table. "I ain't goin o're there, and ya cannie make me!"
"Stop! For armok's sake!" Shouted Eric. "You don't know what will happen!"
Eric's face was pained, strained, and gripped with restrained terror. Weird didn't care. The ghost of Mr chicken was going to the afterlife, even if it had to shipped as freight to get there.
Pulling the table hurt like hell. Gods, who knew alabaster could weigh so goddamn much!? One more heave, and the foul mouthed and recalcitrant mule of a table was in position in the center of the circe.
"For god's sake! STOP!" Shouted eric, absolute terror in his eyes.
He paused for a second. Nope. The vicious tickle in the back of his mind was shouting "send It! Send it!"
"Sorry eric. It's gotta go!"
Stepping outside the circle, and making the appropriate gestures, then touching the edge, crimson light flared around the circle like it had caught fire.
"Whoaaaah bessy!" Shouted the table. "You're crazy, ya ken!?"
Weird smiled. "I know."
Finishing the gesture, a great ball of black mist exploded into being around the table, and just as suddenly, contracted into nothing leaving only a slightly concave depression in the floor where it used to be.
Smugly, weird dusted his hands, and turned to walk back towards the door.
Then it happened.
A brilliant flash of golden light light streaked with black mist crackled and boomed as a shower of mixed sparkles and a concussive shockwave blasted behind him, knocking him on his face.
There, in the circle, the table stood. A giant cork covered in fine lines of divine origin plugged a glowing golden halo of light on the table's surface, itself bathing the room in beautiful golden light streaming out of the arcane script running along its surface.
But the peace de resistance was what was on top of the cork.
An obsidian statuette of a tall woman holding an hourglass in one hand, slapping her ass with the other, and making a 'kissy face' stood larger than life atop the cork. A large scrap of purfumed paper declared in larger than life letters "thank's love. Better luck next time. XO" with a black heart painted on the bottm right corner.
From his vantage on the floor, weird spied several postage stamps pasted all over the legs of the table, along with a rubber stamp mark that read "return to sender."