Good Morning Harbingers of the Inevitable,
As the two or three of you reading this lifeless body know, our fellow rules committee member passed to the great beyond. His family adored and cherished him and was even loved by a few at the bar. They honored him with a fine funeral service complete with professional mourners and two wailers. Given his family considered me and the other members of the rules committee part of the problem we were not invited but quickly discovered he was to be buried in a family only graveside service. The obituaries are pretty thorough. You see in general curmudgeons would never let on they actually care about one of their own as it goes against hard earned perceptions. His last few visits to Dewey’s painfully announced to all our dear friend was very ill. He took a few of the senior members aside and in as solemn a voice this reprobate ever spoke, he explained that regardless of how it had to happen he was to be placed in an old refrigerator and buried in Jefferson County Landfill! He made each of us promise to see it through. Nobody knew the place better than he did! Poo would spend hours picking through the layers of goo to find little treasures including his latest fashion statement; the hat. He was very concerned and rightfully so, that his family would never honor his dying wishes.
The plan was set. At the end of chapel services the casket was closed until everyone filed out including the mourners and wailers who agreed to hook up for beers right after they put him in the ground. Only his immediate family remained and followed the casket being wheeled to and loaded onto the Hurst. Dv ant borrowed a repossessed panel van from the bank and picked me up. We followed behind the procession at a respectable distance as not to be noticed when we pulled in and parked behind a large mausoleum some 20 yards from the gravesite. Joe and the Bagwan were strategically positioned behind two headstones each packing a loaded tranquilizer gun. They each insisted on playing a role in this body snatching and looked like pathetic ‘Rambo wanna-be’s,’ I suppose to satisfy some deep seated need to be men again. We needed the help.
It broke my heart to see our good friend’s family so grief stricken. Each member had tears streaming down their faces and with the wailers and moaners chiming in, I almost broke down myself. The casket was slowly lowered into the hole as the family turned away and returned to their cars arm in arm. The backhoe operator waited until the procession left the cemetery before he fired it up. He was completely unaware of being in the crosshairs of two Stanley air rifles and later would recall feeling stinging in his neck before blacking out. Dv ant backed the panel van close to the site as we needed to work quickly. It took all four of us to pull his stiff body from the casket and wrap him with several garbage bags. I’ve operated a backhoe before so I managed to finish the job and with the help of big Joe placed the sedated operator back onto the seat to sleep it off.
We had several hours to kill until darkness so we headed to Dewey’s leaving Poo to bake in the van. Five hours later we emerged from the bar to finish our ghoulish task and staggered to the panel van. It was obvious Poo had ripened some as we headed to the landfill with our heads out of our respective windows. As expected the entrance gate was padlocked but offered little resistance to the bolt cutter. Dv ant shut off the headlights leaving only the parking lights to illuminate our way and realized we really had no idea where the refrigerators were dumped. We slowly made our way about a quarter mile from the gate and decided to find a place to bury Poo thinking it was close enough to the old bastard’s wishes.
Digging was far more difficult than expected as we kept hitting junk. Pieces of plywood, old shingles, lamps, lawnmowers, and other such debris made digging a deep hole impossible. In our besotted condition we collectively decided to place him in the shallow hole we managed to dig then cover him up with the loose shit on the surface. The Bagwan insisted on saying a “few” words before finishing the job, so leaning on our shovels we bowed our heads while our spiritual leader began to bless the site. The holy man was on a roll when the distinctive howling of dogs could be heard stopping him mid-sentence. The narrow beams of flashlights could be seen while the sound of barking dogs was nearly on top of us. We could see the silhouette of several dogs come over the mound of garbage directly in front of us so we immediately abandoned our mission and ran for the panel van. A vicious Doberman was screaming at me while rolling up my window as the other dogs began sniffing at Poo’s plastic shroud. Then the unthinkable happened. The dogs began digging at his body pulling at his limbs and face. Oh my God I saw one dog finally tear off Poo’s left arm and trotted away I assume to eat it! Another had managed to gulp down an ear as two others fought over the other arm. There was no time left. Joe’s military training kicked in. He took control and snapped us out of our collective panic. “This way” Joe commanded and Dv ant hit the gas throwing gravel and junk at the carnage behind us making a clean get-a-way.
I’m sure this unfortunate incident was not what our good friend had in mind, but damn it we meant well. In the future please don’t involve the curmudgeons in burial plans. This rule was the first order of business at yesterday’s meeting.