“I didn’t know the deceased,” began Pastor Anders, “But I’m told he was a good man.”
“HA!” interjected a glowering man in the front row. He was, in fact, the only mourner in attendance. The pastor cleared his throat. “I’m told he was a generous man –“
“Riiiight,” said the man in the front row. The pastor shifted uncomfortably, but continued. “He goes on today to rejoin his loving wife, Martha –“
“Pfft.”
“ – in the life ever after –“
“Mehh!”
“Is there a problem, sir?”
The man seemed surprised to be addressed. “I’m sorry?” he said. “Is there a problem?” repeated the pastor.
“No, Reverend,” said the mourner. “Sorry.” The pastor fumed a moment. “I’m sorry but how did you know the man?”
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A long moment passed. “Then why are you here?” asked the pastor. “Will there be sandwiches?” asked the man. The pastor shut his book with finality and stared at him. “No. There will not be sandwiches.”
“Oh.”
The pastor completed his eulogy perfunctorily, then was about to leave when he noticed the man was holding his hand up. “Yes?” he snapped.
“Can we ride him?” asked the man.
The pastor was flabbergasted. “RIDE HIM? CAN WE RIDE HIM?”
“Yeah,” said the man. “You know. Like a pony.”
A moment passed as the pastor considered his next steps very carefully. And later, as they both rode the dead corpse like a pony, the pastor made a note to erase the church security tape.
