Freelance Gravedigger
Where does the soul go when we die? When the light goes out, where does it go? I don't know... I do know where the body goes though. The body goes in the ground. The cold, hard ground. Into the deep, dark holes I dig...
Hi, I'm Janey, and I'm a freelance gravedigger. I've always enjoyed digging deep holes and I've been an acquaintance with death ever since I took Shorty my pet African snail shark cage diving (the cage bars were too widely spaced for a snail). Graveyards have always made me feel inconveniently aroused. I'm kind of quirky like that. But you can understand overall why I've chose this line of work.
Woah, wait. That's not so creepy, huh? Seems like happy-go-lucky Janey is just pulling your leg as to the horrors she has seen. Well, that's just down to my friendly nature. However, the reality is quite different... You see, the thing is... I have no business acumen at all, which is a major bummer when you're self-employed the way I am. I really don't even know what freelance means exactly. Am I supposed to pay tax? Genuine question. I haven't been paying tax and that is stressing me the fuck out. There's not a lot of other freelance gravediggers around, so I have no idea who else to ask about stuff like that...
Also, business isn't so hot and hasn't been for a while. You'd think people die all the time right? Well, none of them are coming my way, haha. I have real difficulty finding new clients. My current business model entails hanging around the morgue and asking the crying people if they need a hole for their corpse/s. They are not good negotiators. The clients I have made give little in terms of repeat custom. I keep calling and calling: "How's your grandma?", "Have any of your other kids died?", "You all breathed it in." But these guys don't seem to want to support a hard working gal like me and it's pot luck as to when any of them are going to go.
Or so I thought... After reading Trump's "Trump: The Art of the Deal" and staring long and hard into the cold manic eyes of a Ronald McDonald statue, I realised I had to make the business come to me. I had to dig holes with people's names on. I had to take life and death into my own hands. Specifically, I had to murder people and then bury them, whilst ideally monetising the entire process. Which is what I've been doing. It's not quite the dream of freelance grave digging I had envisioned for myself. There's a lot of blood in people when they're still alive, a lot. And it gets everywhere. It's like, once it's found a way out, it just goes for it. Know what I mean? Phewee. And I'm very much in the red still, pun intended. The work has increased, but... finding the customers... getting them to pay... it's a hard life that's for sure.
Credited to koalazeus
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