White gunk.

It was 2am, when I was rudely awakened by Ian the spider costume tapping a jaunty rhythm on my forehead.
He wears great big hobnail boots, you see.

Anyway, the reason for the dance was that Ian had found some porn stashed behind the sofa.
"Red Hot Webs", he said it was called, and he was asking me if I'd go to the 24 hour garage and get him some Kleenex.

I trudged down to the garage (making sure I was dressed; I've made that mistake before when Ian has demanded goods, and Mr Habib at the kebab shop still hasn't forgiven me), and took Ninjaraffe with me.

On the way to the garage, half-listening to Ninjaraffe whittering-on about Manga, I slipped in something on the floor.
Ninjaraffe, with his ninja-like reflexes, failed to catch me and let me land painfully on the floor. He did, however, have the courtesy to laugh like drain.

"What did I slip on?" I asked him.
"It's some sort of white gunk," he told me. "This is Knocker's Alley, so what do you expect?"
"That isn't your usual white gunk," I said, getting to my feet. "It's ectoplasm!"
"Jism, more like..."
"Shut up."

I sent Ninjaraffe off to the garage as I studied the ectoplasm.
It had congealed, but was certainly something spooky...