Chapter 1

Three fresh ones came in this morning, a busy morning by our standards. I can smell the formaldehyde creeping off of their bodies but I am eating breakfast at the moment, a bacon and egg muffin from the local deli ... and it is delicious. My name is Bob; it's an unremarkable name by any standard, I'll give you that, but I am a pretty standard guy. This decrepit cesspool, a.ka Sunny Time Funeral Parlor, is where I work. I've always thought the name was a bit of a cruel pun, one of those "the grass is greener on the other side" meanings, but it turns out the owner's first name was Sunny. He passed away about a decade ago, now and his son, Lionel, now runs the place, not that you particularly care. So what is it I do here? I'm a beautician and comforter of the bereaved. The morgue delivers bodies that have been ravaged in all grotesque manners and I weave magic to make them look more radiant than when they were alive. I know what you are thinking, "that's just sick, morbid and macabre", it's a common reaction, and it's ok. When I started this job, roughly thirteen years ago, I thought it would simply be good experience and a few extra bucks but then I found a type of morbid pleasure in 're-animating' the dead and here I am thirteen years and countless funerals later. I know what you want to know, it's the same as everyone; you want to know what the people under those sheets died of and I'll tell you ... after I introduce you to a few of my other ghastly cohorts.

Our receptionist at Sunny Time Funeral Parlor is exquisite, truly one of a kind and the fact that she works in such a gloom soaked industry such as this is truly a travesty. Her name is Daphne or that's what her name tag says at least. Yes it is true, unremarkable Bob with the common name is too shy to talk to her instead he just stammers by in the mornings tripping over his tongue which is dragging on the floor and keeps on going until he gets to his office. Some say she won a beauty pageant one year but was stripped of her title for sleeping with the one of the judges and others say she never lost her title, instead she disappeared off the circuit and wound up her a few years later. Regardless of what her story is she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen; long auburn colored hair that cascades over her tanned shoulders and stops just shy of her heart shaped bottom, brown eyes that go on for as long as her legs, a cute little birthmark that sits just under her eye and breasts so perfectly formed it would put Pamela Anderson to shame. But what's this? Here comes Lionel, waddling his way through the front door just in time to ruin my idol worship of Daphne; bastard. Lionel looks important, fat and out of shape, but important non the less; standing just a shade five foot nine and weighing about 105 kg, it's truly a miracle he hasn't wound up on my table yet. When most people first see him they can't help but stare at his eyebrows. A few months ago at a funeral some small kid, God bless his soul, walked up and asked him if he could use them as umbrellas when it rained. Lionel snorted and waddled furiously away. He always wears suits with his short hair slicked back over his bald spot, he likes to look more important than he actually is. "Bob, what have you done with the new deliveries?" He was standing in front of me and I could swear his mouth was moving but he was still just a blur transcended by Daphne, sign, Daphne. "Bob!" Oh that's right, he likes to be answered, prick. "On the tables, I'll start on them in a second"

"How many are there?"

"Three?"

"Do you know what sex they are?"

"Nope."

"Do you know who they are?"

"Nope."

"Do you know what they died of?"

"Nope."

"Do you know when the funerals are?"

"Soon."

"Useless!" And that got rid of the balding terrier. I know it sounds like I was a little short with the guy but you have to understand, I really don't like him and he can't fire me, I'm too good. Earlier in the year a young man came in, shot point blank in the eye, cool huh, and the sides of his mouth slit open, getting cooler right, and I made it look like he was going to his fucking prom. Yeah, my job is real glamorous (I'm rolling my eyes right now by the way). Well at least there is Daphne; have I ever asked her out? Course not. Why not? Because I'm just ordinary Bob and she's Daphne, perfectly perfect.

"Morning Daphne. Can you tell me when the newbie's in there are being buried?"

"Hey Bob, umm, the female in one week and the two males the week after. One at the start of the week and the other at the end."

"Thanks." See, I'm a wuss. But a wuss that needs to get back to work.

Three bodies today; so very busy. Normally I wouldn't contemplate considering these cadavers until a day or two before their funerals but, since you've been so nice and listened to my story so far, I'll let you know what's wrong now. Lets start with the young male, they always have interesting stories. Um, well that was unexpected. Ladies and Gentlemen drum roll please, mister smartass here managed to get himself hit by an ambulance. How? Clearly not looking both ways when crossing the road. Contestant number two come on down! The old male. Died of cancer, old age, nothing too interesting. Now for the female. Says aged 24, still a youngster ... I wonder what she looks like. I know you're thinking I should respect the dead and so forth but it's only one look, and I'm sure she won't mind. WOAH! Those can't be real, they're still perky. One of them at least. She's a bit of a hottie, course if she were alive I'd never be able to speak to her ... but she's not so no harm no foul. Oh yeah, what did she die of? Says here the silicon from her breast implants leaked, that explains the disproportionate breasts. I still have a few more days left until I have to start working on the bodies for their funerals so it's back into the cold storage units for my three new best friends and time for lunch for me.

Normally I just eat lunch in the 'office' but today I've decided to get some fresh air, head down to the local deli and pick up a sandwich. I mean, I'm used to staring at dead bodies all day so they don't creep me out, but staring at a dead girls 36 DD's while I'm gnashing away seems just a little perverse even for me. Unfortunately I remember now why I never come out for lunch. There are so many crowds around at this time and so many people who should have walked in front of a bus a long time ago. This couple walking in front of me, sure they are cute with their pecks and banter, but do they really need to occupy the entire sidewalk while the forty of us behind them wallow in self-loathing that we don't have that kind of romance. Then when you squeeze by them at the first sight of an opening you get stuck behind the old woman who's just plodding along without a care in the world which would be fine except she seems to be hell bent on walking exactly where you want to walk. Then by the time you dodge the sidewalk mayhem you reach the deli line; this brings us to the current moment.

The world is filled with ignorant and annoying people. People who appear to be placed upon God's green earth with one simple purpose; seek out and annoy you. It doesn't matter where you are or who you are. You could be climbing Mount Kilimanjaro at 20,000 feet above sea level and standing on the top would be some business man with an over inflated sense of worth yelling incessantly into his mobile phone "can you hear me now?" And there is one such person like that standing in front of me at the moment. Of course he is at the front of the line and of course he doesn't care that he is holding up every single person behind him while he discusses something that I'm sure is of grave importance whilst mumbling through an order for a half- caff, double mocha, no cream, soy latte and a chicken salad sandwich without tomato and dressing. The pretentious ass finally receives his lunch and is off, leaving me to order. It's a quick lunch today, a chicken wrap with extra dressing and tomato and a lemonade, not because I have anything particularly exciting or pressing to do this afternoon but because the sky looks like it's about to crack open; the weathermen called for clear skies today but what do they know, it's only their job to predict the weather.

I get half way back to the office when bolts of lighting split the skies and rain begins to pelt down. Of course, me without an umbrella, wind up soaking wet with no change of clothes until I get home later tonight. As I'm sure you can tell though I'm a glass half full kind of guy. So the bright side is I'm going to take a longer lunch and ride out the worst of the storm sitting by a fire at a quaint little café and then head back, hopefully, if the rain backs off a little. On the down side I might not get to see Daphne again today, but I'm sure I can deal with staring at her face book page tonight; not that I do that because, you know, it would be stalkerish.

At about 3 pm the rain began to slow to a soft pitter so I headed back to work in a caffeine- induced frenzy. It took me half the time it normally would as I bounced my way off the sidewalk and into the reception area of Sunny Times.

"Where have you been?" I don't know how long Lionel has been standing there waiting for me, and I don't think I care much either.

"Well it started to rain. I just got my hair blow waved. My make up would have run." I didn't get a response after that, just a disgruntled huff from a man with a inferiority complex and a stern look as he marched away, steam practically fizzing out of his hairy ears. There was a soft laugh in the background. At first I wasn't sure, but it got a little louder and I was able to decipher the source; Daphne was sitting behind the reception desk listening to the whole conversation.

"One day he'll fire you, you know that right." Daphne always had a smirk when she talked, especially when she knew she was right. It was just a cute little quirk.

"It's bound to happen one day. But he may get hit by a bus one day too. Boy would his body be fun to work on. It'd have him looking like an Asian transvestite hooker in no time." Another laugh came from Daphne. This one was more pronounced, more confident. If I was good with girls and asking them out now would be a perfect time. I'm not though. I nervously scratched the back of my neck and with a courtesy laugh shuttled back into my office.

Most days I don't really have anything exciting to do around here. Today is one of those days. All I have to do is tough it out until five pm and I'm home free. That's approximately one hour and fifteen minutes. Shouldn't be too hard. Believe it or not I do get some type of real work around these parts. You are more than welcome to join me in my journey into the abode of tedious paperwork but I'm guessing you would prefer to simply come back at around five pm when I clock out.

You came back, I feel so loved. With my paperwork out of the way I can now finally head home to relax in front of the idiot box until dinner time and bedtime. It's a nightly routine, let me grab my coat. I can hear you silently judging me by the way. Can you say that you capitalize on every moment? That saying, "Live everyday as if it was your last." Everybody's heard it at least once. It's bullshit. If you lived everyday like it was your last you'd end up wasting all your energy on frivolous pursuits like sky diving or climbing the Eiffel tower; things that will only get you broke and living under the underpass on your local highway. If you're lucky I guess it could be an underpass in a particularly affluent neighborhood. Time to say goodbye to my most beloved of co-workers first though. Lionel never really greets or farewells me if he doesn't want something. Daphne on the other hand. Every goodbye is filled with opportunity and makes me feel so inadequate that I can't simply say "do you want to go out for dinner?" If you don't believe me listen to this. "Night Daphne."