Sometimes Heyman Boyd would go incarnate

Sometimes Heyman Boyd would go incarnate again just to ride the shuttle up and down Dark Matter Corridor 458, read the graffiti at the stations, and watch the variety of people who

chose to die there. There were worse places to die in than Dark Matter Corridor 458 but Heyman Boyd called it home when incarnating. They came from near and far to die there. He

didn't want all those gross dying people to die in Corridor 458 where he was dying. Heyman Boyd needed solitude, not company. So he crawled to the much-less-popular Corridor 5, and

was instantly stopped by a mariachi trio sporting green and red sarapes with a large “5” embroidered in white at the front. “Senor Herman Boyd, you can’t die alone!” They sang.

I glanced at them confusedly and tried to continue on my way but they formed a barricade in front of me and began singing what sounded like lament about my pointless existence.

So

I…um…wow…I lost my train of thought, there. Anyway. So, this skeleton goes into a bar and orders a beer and a mop. I’m sorry. I spaced out. Where was I? Anybody. Somebody. Help!

The comic’s act was dying and the crowd grew antsy. A patron pulled a tomato from his pocket just as the comic tried again. “OK, the skeleton orders a beer and a mop and…” SPLAT!

“And that, My Hairy Friend…”, He patted the dog’s head, “…is when I got off crack, used the G. I. Bill to study at Big Al’s Greasy Spoon Diner, and started my career in fast food”.