Bad for the image. He never minded being slimed unless it was really bad, or unless the sliming kept him from his comic books. Peter looked around the firehall, at his three buddies, and grinned. Slime or no, he loved busting ghosts. Then he came to a screeching halt in midair.
Guys are bad.
There was a certain glint in the green ghost's eyes he didn't trust. Wrapping his arms around Zeddemore's neck, he proceeded to cover the man's head, neck, and shoulders with a heavy dose of ectoplasm. Winston's groan filled the air and he batted ineffectually at the spud in a frantic effort to detach him. Egon was the next victim, although he had taken advantage of Winston's sliming to start up the stairs in hopes he wouldn't be noticed. Peter convulsed with laughter as Slimer spun with Egon, arms around the blond man's neck, and got him on the face and all down the front of his blue jumpsuit.