He walked down the line paying his respects.

He walked down the line paying his respects. A somber faced line. Wet Red eyes. He leaned in and hugged her, he said, "Sorry for your loss," and he pickpocketed her

the love of my life for twelve years now, and he deserved better than laying in a pool of his own electrocuted spittle. Wrenching open the power converter, I took one last look

-- and I wanted to look upon him as I pleased for the rest of my days. Detaching his head with my utility knife, I left with the clothes on my back -- and his head in a brown bag.

Uncle Tim had been a taxidermist for most of this life. I had spent many long summers extracting blood from deer and stuffing carcasses with sawdust. Finding glass eyes to match,

I followed Uncle Tim's will. I mounted him in a life-like pose of the common fly-fisher. He always loved his time outdoors. The ears were a bit difficult with the extra batting in

Tim's skull protruding slightly. "Dammit," I said under my breath. "I'm gonna ask for my money back from that taxidermist." Still, Tim looked almost as I remembered him.

He had said that he wanted his body to be donated to science; I had decided that taxidermy was a science. Now I could stare at Tim's blond locks without it being awkward. Perfect!

However, I grew discontent with his invariant hairstyle and decided to use cutting-edge cloning technology and microbiology to implant living hair follicles. Now I could style him

into a woman, the prettiest woman in the world. And then Ya Boy walked in the room and started singing, "First we fuck bitches, then we get money"