There was once a grand old man who liked

There was once a grand old man who liked to read a lot. One fine day he realized that he spent more time in reading than living and then he died. He had a grandkid who hated readin

g. Before he died the grand old man left his grandson a note. But the boy didn't read it. Which was a shame because

on the note lay an ancient family secret, passed down from father to son, the secret was... a secret of course, and no one knew what it was. But there had been guesses, and the boy

hastily picked it up and started reading in anticipation. Was it an old recipe? A treasure map maybe? "Son, now that I'm gone, you should know that behind the fireplace is a chest

. My chest. Your eldest brother inherited my head & various other appendages where inherited by your elder silbings. Don't hang your head low because "it's only a torso", my heart

will go on without me. I was an organ donor who gave up the ghost. It's still ticking, but a cancer survivor has it now. I check up on it from time to time. This old heart of mine

is doing a good service to that poor lad, bless his heart. Dying can be a drag, but bits and pieces always live on somewhere. You should see what happened to my kidneys, though.

They were baked into a steak pie by accident. As a non-corporeal post-organ donor, I was upset. My kidneys were pretty good when I had them. Someone will pay.

destroy the entire city. I decided though I wasn't just going to let myself deteriorate in a hospital. I was going out with bang. So when CJ Harris left town, I set the bomb off.