Otis wasn't afraid of death, it was the chance

Otis wasn't afraid of death, it was the chance of waking up afterwards, in a moldy coffin 6 feet under, or worse - in the cremation chamber. His will stipulated that when he died
his backyard must be cleaned all of his beloved Fifi's poo poo, she must be dispatched, if not already dead, taxidermied and stood next to his stiff corpse at his wake, which
will be a grand spectacle where we desecrate the recently deceased man and dog simultaneously for the viewing pleasure of what will be at least a thousand ticket holders, cheering
like idiots and mooning at the television cameras. Bare-buttocked and batty-brained, the consumers of this unholy spectacle twixt man and beast would revel in sadistic pleasure.
Then Chaucer sat down. The King sighed, "Uh, nice poem. Can we please have some real entertainment?" Servants dragged a bear in chains and a dog covered in pig's blood. The King
looked uneasy, and the servants trembled. "What happened to the pig," he began, sniffing the dog as his crown slipped from his bald pate, "and where is my ham, boy?" He grabbed the
broom and started swatting the serevent. "I want ham!" "Is he turning into Ponyo?" The servent whispered to another. The king heard this and
ordered a beheading followed quickly by a parade of virgins into his bedchambers and a quick nap. Post-nap, the king fancied a celebratory feast so he commanded
the immediate plucking of three swans. One for the king, one for the virgins and a spare. The feast lasted a week and never had so many swan bones been chucked around with such joy
and abandonment. They didn't realize, though, that the swans were sent from above as messengers of love, peace & faith. Their stomachs were full, but their hearts remained empty.

Started: 2012-05-10 16:33:59
Finished: 2013-03-17 18:02:40

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