"Probably," George agreed. "But I don't know how to safely disconnect the casino from the grid, and unless you've taken a Learning Annex course that I don't know about, I don't think you do, either."
They continued following the guard, who eventually entered a door that was marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. George caught the door as it began to swing shut. The guard glanced back, but didn't say anything. He led them down some stairs and into an area with none of the polish of the casino floor. Definitely a backstage area.
"What're you doing here, Phil?" another security guard asked, rising from a desk as the three of them approached.
"Cutting power to the casino," Phil--apparently that was his name--replied. "Those damn bugs are--"
"Cutting the power?" the other guard demanded. "Are you crazy? I can't let you do that! The bosses would have our--"
George walked up while he was ranting and laid a hand on his shoulder. The guard collapsed back into his chair, then tilted to one side and sprawled on the floor. She ignored the soul's frantic--panicked, really--questions while she turned to Phil. "Less gawking, more action, Phil," she suggested.
Then she turned to the ghost. "Because we don't have time to argue with you, that's why. No, you're not dead. I'll put you back in a minute."