Homer sat in his truck keeping an eye out for Haydon in the side mirror. He was chewing gum so fast and furious his jaw was getting tired. Finally he tossed the gum from the open window, reached up over the visor and produced a pack of Camel cigarettes.

“Ah,” he said aloud.

Haydon pulled up behind him, taking care not to park on the cemetery lawn. After slamming the door twice Haydon approached Homer. “Still smoking those killer weeds, huh.”

“Yeah, the gum tastes like shit,” Homer said, exiting his truck; then, “Did you hear, Jackson died?”
Haydon spat a stream of tobacco juice, said, “About time that old bastard kicked the bucket; he was a drain on society.”

" The hell you talking about? A drain on society?"

“He didn’t have no church, so I doubt he was a real reverend,” Haydon said.

“Man, I ain’t talking about Jessie Jackson, it was Michael Jackson that died.”

“No shit? He was just a kid. What did he die from?”

Homer removed two shovels from his truck, said, “Fame, I suspect.”