There we were at Marty’s funeral. He had died four days ago and no one knew until the smell became unbearable and the neighbors complained. Marty never really smelt that great when he was alive either. His wife had been out of town and she didn’t take it well. We all sent her flowers.
Now it was time to bury him. His wife was sitting in the front row with her new boyfriend and Marty’s son. She cried out loud the whole time. It made us uncomfortable. We sang Amazing Grace and made speeches about how great of a man he was when no one really knew who he was. Everything that was said was general and could have applied to anyone.
When I went up to the coffin to pay my respects I was shocked.
The coffin was empty. I stepped back suddenly in disbelief and bumped into someone and when I turned around to apologize I saw that it was Marty. I looked back at the empty coffin and then back at Marty standing there before me alive and healthy. I felt like I was losing my mind.
I said softly, “Marty aren’t you supposed to be dead?” and he replied, “Aren’t you happy to see that I am alive?” “Of course I am!” I replied.
So I turned around and said, “Hey everyone Marty’s alive.” And the whole place got quiet. Everyone just stared at us as we stood there. His wife took out a gun and shot him. And we all told her how sorry we were for her loss.