Spare-O's Funeral Service

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One day, a hearse driver by the name of Amir, and his companion, Zaatar, were stuck staring at each other in a graveyard. They had a corpse on board, and were waiting for its funeral procession to arrive. As they waited, Amir was already dreading the long drive back. He complained of not getting any sleep, so his companion suggested resting up a bit.

"Take a nap."

Since they had anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes to kill, Amir abided and slumped to a sleeping position in the driver's seat. That wouldn't work, Zaatar thought. If the funeral procession arrived and saw him, it would be quite distasteful. He thought Amir should sleep in the rear, alongside the corpse. Sleeping in the trunk of a hearse with a corpse for company was not ideal, but there was a spare casket, (a trademark of the Spare-O company). The thing was convenient, and Amir contemplated the persuasion of a quiet place to lie. He perused the box for a bit.

"So, how's this gonna work," he asked.

To Zaatar, it was simple. "You get in, and I'll close the lid. If anyone comes, I'll give you a knock," he said.

In the moment, it seemed reasonable enough. Amir went inside and was actually pleasantly surprised. The casket pillows were the softest he'd ever felt, (he never lay in a casket before); he was excited to experience perhaps the best sleep of his life. He nestled in, and Zaatar blithely closed the lid.

Zaatar pulled out a book to keep himself busy. He tore out some pages, balled them up, and saw how far he could throw them. It was a great book for overcoming boredom. The exertion gave him a headache though, and for this he needed the quick relief of nicotine. He didn't have any cigarettes on him, so he thought of running to the store; there was a nearby mini-mart down the road. All he had to do was get back before the funeral procession arrived.

It was easy enough, but he wasn't keen on the risk involved in leaving his friend like that. He grabbed a bunch of flower bouquets lying around the trunk, and piled them atop Amir's casket, eventually covering it on all sides. As far as he was concerned, the casket was hidden away then.

"Welp, going to get me some cigs, buddy," he jokingly yelled at Amir, (the deepest sleeper in the world).

Zaatar and Amir didn't know the identity of the corpse in the trunk. They referred to all corpses as cargo, not by name. It was their personal preference to keep a safe distance from that touchy side of the business. Nonetheless, aboard the hearse that day was the corpse of one of the most renown Islamic scholars in the world.

As per the Islamic custom, the scholar had to be put in the ground as soon possible. The massive funeral arrived while Zaatar was away. Pallbearers, family, and followers flocked the abandoned hearse. With no time to spare, they took what they perceived was the scholar's casket, the one covered in all the flowers, and they headed for the hole.

Zaatar raced back to see a barrage of cars lined up outside the graveyard. He ran to the hearse, and realized the grave mistake they made. He had to stop the funeral quickly. He clawed his way through the crowd of people.

"Stop what you're doing right now! Put the casket down! That's my friend in there," he wailed.

He implored them to stop, but they proceeded. A few men dragged Zaatar away from the casket, and he was joined with a row of other mourners in wailing. His outburst was understandable; after all, the late scholar touched the lives of many.

Zaatar escaped the crowd, and ran back to the hearse with a plan. He jumped in the driver's seat with intent to drive to the burial, but was thwarted by the lack of keys. He looked in the visor, and still nothing. As he surveyed for the keys, he looked in the rearview mirror at the casket staring back at him; it lay there quietly, undisturbed. Zaatar got out of the car, and approached it.

By that time, Amir was being lowered into the grave. Zaatar heard the imam reciting prayer. He opened the trunk, clenched onto the casket, and began heaving it out. When half of it hung over the edge, suspended in air, he positioned himself underneath as to catch it while he continued to pull.

When it finally did fall, he caught it, but the sudden shift in weight caused him to lose his footing in the grass. He found himself trapped beneath the falling casket. Everything went silent; his undivided attention was consumed by the sound of his cracking sternum as the obtrusive casket lay on his chest. He lay motionless while the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. His broken bones pierced his heart, and he was bleeding from the inside. In a matter of moments his heart stopped beating.

Just then, the beating sound of falling dirt caused Amir to wake up as they were filling the hole. He took the knocking sound for his friend giving him a heads up, so, out of his slumber, he slowly opened the casket. Suddenly, a scoop of dirt hit him square in the face. His eyes and mouth were laden with dirt, so he was blind and dumb. He fell out of the casket, got up, and bumped into a dirt wall. His commotion drew the attention of gravediggers, and others nearby; they gathered around the hole and saw the casket ajar, beside it, what appeared to be a ghoul scurrying about.

Panic broke as startled funeral-goers called out the name of God. The ghoul climbed out of the hole, and continued to horrify as he approached them. He was unaware of his surroundings, and disoriented with a face and mouth full of dirt; he was trying to speak, but swallowed and regurgitated dirt instead. The imam standing by grabbed a shovel, and closed in on him. Set to bring an end to the madness once and for all, he gave the shovel a herculean swing that cracked the ghoul in the back of the skull. Amir's eyes rolled towards the heavens, and he fell back into the hole, dead.

(And they all lived happily ever after, well sort of. As for the scholar, they found him later, but unfortunately couldn't bury him; he was part of a crime scene. The imam was taken into custody for manslaughter. And Spare-O's Funeral Services was set to be sued into oblivion.)



Credited to Spare-Os 

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