|You hold the paranormal ricotta tightly in your fist. Then you catch it with your other hand as it squeezes through your fingers in a thoroughly disgusting fashion, and hold it in your cupped hands. Once you're sure it's not going to ooze through your fingers again, you close your eyes and meditate, guiding your spirit to the astral plane (after waiting in the tedious astral security line and removing your astral shoes for the astral metal detector). "Ohhhhhm," you chant. "Ohhhhm on the rrraaaange. . ."
"Brrrrraaaains?" A voice says.
"No, I said 'range,'" you say. "It was a meditation joke. Never mind. I don't have a corporeal body on this astral plane, so I don't have any brrrraaaains right now."
"Brrrraaaains?" the voice says again.
"No, no brrraaaains here. It's like Congress, amirite?"
"Okay, I'll tell you what," you say. "if I give you a corporeal form, will you inhabit it and do my bidding? Then you can have some brrraaaains. What do you say?"
"Good, then, it's settled. What should I call you when I summon you?"
"Okay. See you on the other side, <name>."