Did you know 99% of all children are afraid of clowns? Kids are dummies. You’re an adult. Clowns are here to make you smile and laugh and laugh and laugh until you’re defenseless as a kitten. Oh, now Kitten, don’t call out. You know the police respect the charity work clowns do in the community. They’re never going to look in a lovable clown’s basement.
Why do they call it a funeral home?
I don't care how dead I am, this just doesn't feel like home. This is just the place where all my ex's can come and cry about how I was the best thing that ever happened to them.
Now, I'm no expert, since this is my first time being dead and all, but should this guy be shooting me full of 100,000 volts just before the viewing? My hair was always straight when I was on the other side of the coffin. This is just getting stupid. Or maybe it's me?
Where's Igor going with my brain?
You’ll probably snicker. Or better... Do the old “Cough! – Loser – Cough!” routine when poor, lonely Norman Bates checks you into his motel.
The only thing he has left in this world – aside from his moth-eaten homemade taxidermy collection. You’ll certainly feel a stab of pity for him later when you meet his mother. But save that pity for yourself. The last sight you’ll see is the flickering neon No Vacancy sign… through your only eye not filled with blood.
We all take our eyesight for granted don't we?
But when you have to rely on your other senses and all you can hear are anguished screams of the undead and all you can feel are rotting corpses and all you can smell is the stench of roasting souls being tortured in Hell... well after this little experience you might be a bit more careful about around running with sharp instruments.
It's all fun and games until someone loses their mind.
You: “Excuse me. Do you know what time it is?”
You: “Are you okay buddy?”
You: “Stop that! What the hell are you doing?!!”
Me: “Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom!”
You: “Ahhhhhh! Please stop! I can’t take it!! I’m begging you!! No more! Ahhhhhh! Kill me! Won’t you just kill me?!”
Me: “Nom, nom, nom…”
Words are useless. So are screams...
Taking the subway. Feels good. You're not one of those jerks driving a Hummer up on the road. No. You're virtuous. You've got a ticket to carbon footprint sainthood. So why isn't the train stopping at your stop? Or that one? Or that one? Oh good. It's stopping… OH SHIT! IT'S STOPPING!