I walked down the path and saw a stranger.

I walked down the path and saw a stranger. I reached out to grab their hand,and didn't let go. They didn't resist. I let them drag me down the narrow path.

"You know why you're here, don't you?" The stranger asked, their tenacious grip on my hand unfaltering. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten our

Children." I took a step back. "I won't let you harm them." The stranger paused, "you misunderstand, Beatrice." "Beatrice? My name's Ginny."

"You're not Beatrice?" asked the stranger perplexed. > sound of record scratching < In another part of town."Ginny McQuacken, I pronounce you Miss Hortensia 2016. Beatrice feigned

surprise. But she knew the competition was rigged, she couldn't lose. "That's not Ginny McQuacken!" someone screamed from the rafters. Uh oh, looks like the jig was up. Beatrice

Arthur was dead. Beatrice Arthur was dead. I let that sink in. I mean, she was a Golden Girl which implies immortality.

Arthur died in a bicycle accident, he was doored. His only claim to immortality was Jim Morrison's ghost visiting while he waited for the paramedics to arrive. They were too late.

Now it was just the ghost of Arthur and the ghost of Jim Morrison. He stuttered, "H-how's the weather-r in heaven?" The Doors legend shook his head. "A bit chilly currently

with some pleasant rainbow showers which makes perfect unicorn riding weather later in the afternoon with another warm front moving in just before nightrise."