…..I called her name and she didn’t answer. I called again…..still no response. And of course that’s when I started getting nervous, started getting antsier than a dropped potato chip at a summer picnic. This wasn’t like her, wasn’t characteristic of her normal behavior. Something must be wrong….. So I went to investigate the mystery, and what I found stopped me dead in my tracks. She was there alright, there right where she was supposed to be…..but not as a living, breathing organism anymore; rigor mortis had already set it, and her eyes—although still hauntingly open—were glazed over and drying up rapidly. What the…..?!?!?! The bizarre scenario didn’t afford me time to answer this hypothetical question, however, because I suddenly turned pale and got sick then and narrowly missed hitting her stiff body with a blistering stream of vomitus. Shiiiiitttt!!! Goddamnitall!!! HOLY SHIT ALREADY!!!!! “Great!” I thought to myself. Now you have more than a dead body lying in your bedroom under suspicious circumstances to contend with; you also have this smelly, unseemly mess to clean off your carpet before the gross stuff settles into the fabric and subsequently reeks for half an eternity whenever the indoor humidity spikes.…..
Fred's Soapbox 