A corpse fell out of my closet. This is not a metaphor. A human body is lying on the dirty carpet in front of my hall closet. How did it get there? I don’t know. I didn’t put it there and I certainly didn’t kill anybody. Sure, there are people I’d like to kill, or wish that they were dead, but this isn’t anyone I recognize and I’m too lazy to kill a stranger.

Why am I not freaking out? I called the police and haven’t touched the body. I used to work as an undertaker. It’s not that I am used to it, it’s just that it could be so much worse. There was one guy who had been left for a week in the summer heat before he had been found by a neighbor- by the smell. When I got there, his skin had swollen like an overripe fruit.

This was something different. First off, the guy has white hair but he wasn’t old- no wrinkles. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t an albino either. His skin had color. Second off, he was dressed like a reject from the cast of ‘Grease’.

So how did he get here and why is his face beginning to melt?