Ambulatory 911 call from a casket
After weeks of training I was ready to start my new career as a casket builder. “The Coffin Cobbler” was the name chosen for my postmortem carpentered casket catering corporation.
But my boxes for breathless bodies are for the long neglected expired elephant market. They deserve to be sent off to elephant heaven with dignity also.
I received my ordered shipment of 10 tons of lumber to build a few coffins to have at the ready if the need should arise.
I was working on top of the near finished kiosk which stands at 15 feet tall when I inadvertently slipped.
As my gravitational pull thrust me toward the bottom I thought; “The number one cause of death for geese flying into turbine jet engines is geese flying into turbine jet engines.
The most popular methodology of suicide for unhappy geese is flying into turbine jet engines.
The most popular reason for turbine jet engines stalling and causing planes to emergency land is geese flying into turbine jet engines and geese flying into turbine jet engines to commit suicide.
Note to self: The most popular reason for geese committing suicide by flying into turbine jet engines is geese reading my inane stories.”
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Then I plummeted to the bottom of the casket that met me egregiously. The vibration of my inertia meeting wood was likened to a 9.9 Richter scaled Tsunami and it rattled not only my brain, but the half open lid was now two halves closed.
While fading in and out of consciousness I remember thinking; “The leading cause of death for coyotes parachuting without a parachute is coyotes parachuting without a parachute.”
Then I dreamt: “I’m having a raffle for Ruffles called “Russell’s Ruffle Raffle”. I’m raffling Ruffles for the Ruffles Russell Foundation. Raffling Ruffles for Russell’s Ruffle Raffle will raise money for Ruffles Russell Foundation. Russell’s Ruffle Raffle for Ruffles Russell Foundation is sponsored by… Pringles.”
Pitch dark, no one around, countless injuries, and I was wearing sunglasses.
My only resolve was to make an ambulatory 911 call from a casket and attempt to be believable, when I can barely believe it myself.
“Hello, Alcoholics Anonymous, can I help you?’
Me – “Sorry, wrong number. But while I have you, can you tell me where the nearest liquor store is? Somebody there’s gotta know/”
Me – “Wow, them AA people are wicked testy.”
I dialed again; 911 – “Hello”
I replied – “Hi 911, are you busy? Lol, I seemed to have fallen and I can’t get up, in a coffin.”
911 – “CLICK.”
Woe is me – “This… this is not my day. Some days it’s just not worth picking the lock on my cage to venture off into this human latent world.”