I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. And not in the typical “I’m a 17-year-old emo kid trapped in a 30-year-old man’s body” sort of way.
We’re all going to die someday, which is both scary and relieving. My biggest beef with death isn’t the idea of someday leaving my loved ones behind; it’s the fear of my funeral lacking any originality.
You know how Bridezillas put a phenomenal amount of thought into every tiny detail of their wedding? Well, I think funerals should be executed with the same meticulous attention to detail. The last thing you want is for all your friends, post-funeral, to message each other, “Did you hear that eulogy? Soooooo boring lmfao.”
So, just to make things easier for everyone, I’m including my “Corpsezilla” funeral wants below. If these aren’t adhered to, I’m definitely going to haunt you all like a balding Kayako Saeki.
1.) I want this to be a “destination” funeral, like a Hawaiian getaway for friends and family. Put everyone up for the weekend at a hotel, treat them to all to a spa day, and put some pineapple on their pizzas. If brides can inconvenience everyone involved with a “destination” wedding, I should be able to inconvenience you all with a destination funeral.
2.) In respect to Crowlin family traditions, there shall be a one-week “no shaving” period BEFORE and AFTER the funeral. This includes facial hair, armpit hair, nose hairs, and pubes. The excessive hair will truly supplement your grieving experience.
3.) The night before the funeral will include a fireworks show, midget stripper mud wrestling, and an uncomfortable 40-minutes of absolute silence while guests pass my left shoe around and drink sips of Guinness from it. The last person to vomit wins a t-shirt reading “I Was Dragged to a Kickass Funeral, and All I Got Was This Stupid Shirt!”
4.) The morning of my funeral shall begin with a one-man theatrical reenactment of my life starring Johnny Depp. There will be a quiz at the end, so pay attention.
5.) As soon as all guests have been seated, the funeral will begin with a small and filthy man dressed in rags bursting through the door a wooden stake in one hand and a comically oversized hammer in the other, shouting wildly, “WE MUST BE SURE! WE MUST BE SURE!” He will throw open my casket only to reveal…it’s empty!
6.) SUDDENLY, Michael Jackson’s hit song “Thriller” will play from a well-disguised set of speakers, and my corpse–repurposed into a marionette!–will be lowered from a trap door in the ceiling as a smoke machine fills the room with some spooky atmosphere. My corpse will be dressed in the famous red jacket from the music video–and I mean a CINEMATIC QUALITY JACKET, not some cheap knockoff!
7.) A team of puppeteers dressed as clowns will lead my body through the entire “Thriller” dance, and anyone who doesn’t dance along with qualified fervor will be asked to leave. The dance will end with my body dropping abruptly into my casket as the strings are cut from overhead.
8.) Rather than beginning with a bunch of stupid bible verses and other bullshit that didn’t mean much to me in daily life, the funeral celebrant will begin with a series of uncomfortably vulgar jokes while individually making heavy eye contact with everyone in attendance.
9.) Midway through the celebrant’s comedic set, my corpse will spring forward in my coffin and shout, “WAIT! I’M ALIVE! I’M ALIIIIIVE!” prior to being violently staked through the heart by the aforementioned filthy man in rags. The bloodspray will be so gratuitous that the front rows will be treated as a “splash zone.”
10.) The celebrant’s set shall continue as if the interruption never took place while my family looks on in horror.
11.) After the final words have been spoken, my corpse will be flown into the sky and tossed into ocean while the funeral guests watch from below and play “Toss the Wooden Stake.” The rules are similar to “Toss the Bouquet,” except the person who catches the stake is the next to die. The game will resume until somebody catches the stake.
12.) Four weeks later, after everyone’s had a chance to grieve properly, my hired impersonator will dine at an upscale restaurant with a surprisingly hot cat burglar. Provided I have a butler, he will notice me from across the room and nod solemnly.
13.) Cryptic letters penned in my handwriting will be periodically mailed to my loved ones, insisted my death was a hoax and providing clues to my location, “National Treasure” style.
What’s YOUR ideal funeral??