I tried to explain this to him delicately. "Tuck, you know that to even have a chance of pulling this off, you need a scale that's accurate to the nearest billionth of a gram, or something like that. Such a scale doesn't exist in all the world. And I'm not sure if this scale is even accurate to the nearest pound. You'd also need the body to be sealed off from all interference, so that nothing gets in or out and distorts the results. You can't just hold him like this on a normal scale and hope to weigh his soul!"

"Wait for it," Tuck said. "Keep your eyes on the scale."

And so we waited. And waited. And waited.

And then Morty stopped breathing. While his imminent death had been certain for several minutes, it had now officially happened.

Now we just had to wait for the soul to escape the body. And so we waited. And waited. And waited.

"Tuck," I said, "maybe we should figure out what..."

"Wait for it," Tuck said again. "Keep your eyes on the scale."

And then it happened. I couldn't believe my eyes. I just stood there in total amazement as a thick stream of bluish white smoke poured out of Morty's mouth.

The smoke flowed out of his body, then coalesced into a dense cloud just two feet in front of me. For a few seconds it hung there in midair, almost like it was watching me. I may have even seen a face in it; I'm not sure. But then it moved upwards, up to the ceiling, and then it passed through the ceiling with no resistance at all. It was gone.

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