"LAWN JARTS? YOU WANT TO PLAY LAWN JARTS?"

"LAWN JARTS? YOU WANT TO PLAY LAWN JARTS?" Death was peeved. I knew I had him. "WHAT ABOUT CHESS?" he offered. I smiled at that ivory skull. My years in suburbia would finally

be over because I picked a game that I would totally lose at. I was a lawn darts dunce, Death would win. My pallid boring life would be over and I could finally rest without the

was a welcome retreat from the vibrant responsibilities of living. The ghosts of old pets surroundeed me, but my destination of the Lake of Fire with Satan was foremost in my mind.

"Won't you jump in?, the dark lord asked. "It's lovely and warm!" The sight of yellow bath-ducks floatig on a lake of fire would haunt me for the rest of my (brief) life.

The dark lords words called out to me. Beneath the moonlight the yellow ducks looked like candles on a cake; flickering everywhere. I decided to join the dark lord.

We had tea and cookies while laughing about growing up together ... you know, back when he was just known as the drab duke. He really moved up in the world when

shaved his head, dyed his eyebrows and started singing Michael Jackson tunes. Such a show-stopper, that one. The sad part is, I still needed to buy tickets for his show, no freeb

ies, for me! But, what I really dream of is a beautiful Barbara Streisand concert where we all stand up and sing while holding candles. Anything from

"Happy Days are Here Again" would be a dream come true. That record changed my life, I even listened to it when