A figure stood framed in the doorway. Lightning flashed.
"Roth!" I exclaimed, surprised. "You were dead."
He stepped inside out of the rain. "I got better," he replied.
"I went to your funeral."
"I faked it."
"Why?"
"I wanted to hear what people would say about me after I was gone."
"What did they say?"
"Oh, there was a really nice eulogy. A few snivels then a cough, two belches and a fart."
"Touching, I think. I'm also really glad you went for the burial rather than cremation."
"And someone dumped 17 tons of grapes into the grave."
"Sorry, that was me."
"What!"
"Well, when someone is ill you visit them in the hospital," I looked for understanding, "Yes?"
"Yes."
"And bring them fruit?"
"Yes."
"Dead is the ultimate in ill, so I thought you'd need a lot of fruit."
You, sir, are a genius.
ReplyDeleteI would never have thought of the fruit...
Pearl
Hah! Superb logic, as ever; thank you for the kind thought. But did the lads from the Euthenasia Curry House not load a boat with vindaloo and send it flaming up the Ganges? It's the only way to go. Roth
ReplyDeleteSorry about the fart... it was rather disrespectful of me, but after the sendoff we gave Roth at the Euthanasia Curry Shop, I suppose it was to be expected.
ReplyDeleteoh my god! he's alive again?!?
ReplyDeleteand i gave up a cup of coffee to make the visitation on time!
thankfully i missed the fart... those things have been known to blow things up!