Our primary school was an old Victorian pile with a disused toilet block out the back. Carved into the door of this was the name 'Kevin Traas'. My friends Scott and Carl realised that this meant the toilet block was haunted, and the name of the spectre was Kevin.
'Looking for Kevin Traas' became a major pastime, in which we would all traipse around the school with a toy Ghostbusters PKE Meter (which Scott insisted on calling an 'Amy Peeker') which had been prised open and an old circuit board inserted to 'make it work'.
Kevin even made an appearance in our English lessons. Scott, Carl and my other friends eschewed the traditional 'what I did at the weekend' for stories in which they entered the old toilet block, found a subterranean tunnel, in which was Kevin Traas, who was by now a blood-soaked ghoul, and fully illustrated as such. They then proceeded to blast the undead Hell out of Kevin with, invariably, a pump action shotgun. Kevin Traas never stood a chance.