Yes, I’m planning on dying someday. And since I plan on sitting in my shitty apartment watching reruns of Maury for the rest of my life, I do not plan on being remembered for greatness. However, I have decided that without being remembered for being lazy, my life would be a total loss. I don’t plan on having enough money to die in some national disaster or doomsday scenario; I need to plan on leaving a legacy with how I am remembered once I’m dead. I have run through all of these with my lawyer and he assures me that no matter how ridiculous stipulations in a will are that the parties involved will be required to do it. It also should be noted that by “lawyer” I actually mean “Yahoo Answers.”
I have never been to a taxidermist or killed anything that I would like to have stuffed, but when I die I would ask that my remaining money would be used to find a black market taxidermist who would be willing to stuff my now lifeless body (not stuff in a necrophilia sort of way though). As a stipulation I would ask that he make all of my joints in my body moveable, so that I am more of a giant action figure and not a statue. This way I’ll be able to be positioned in lots of hilarious poses in the afterlife, as I loved to do so much in my waking life.
Think of all the great practical jokes one would be able to pull with a stuffed person. Pose me like a grizzly bear over my relatives’ bed while they’re sleeping and send them into a scare/potential heart attack in the middle of the night. Or lay me into a bed with that promiscuous niece of yours to show her the terror that accompanies waking up to an unfamiliar stiff. No more being a little slut for her!
Tired of not being able to use the car pool lane? Just plop me into your passenger seat and you’re off to making record time on your daily commute.
Picture this: it’s the night of a big family dinner party and the coat closet is way behind schedule on its renovations. Easy, just set up my dead body with my fingers outstretched and then just hang their coats on those fingers. Be sure to set me up in a wacky pose with a hilarious facial expression and maybe a silly hat on so your guests can have a good chuckle as I “greet” them. For extra credit, open my mouth and fill it with after-dinner mints for the guests to take as they’re leaving.
This taxidermist route is also perfect for avoiding how to explain death to young children. “Grandpa isn’t dead, he’s just sleeping and not responding to anything”. I’m sure Terry Schivo’s children were issued a similar statement at some point and they turned out alright.
I really don’t know the logistics of cryogenics, but the idea of being thawed out with a vaccine to my once-incurable illness is tempting. Who knows, perhaps the will have discovered the spring from Tuck Everlasting by that point in time. Think about how easy it would be to tell the grandchildren that grandpa has decided to become a gigantic Popsicle. I bet they would be fucking excited about that shit. Even if I were never thawed out in their lifetime, they would still think of their granddad as pretty cool (feel free to murder me later for making that horrible pun).
Epic Funeral Route
My body would be saved until the last day of summer (even if I died on the first day of fall, you would have to wait until the next year) and a gigantic pyre would be constructed. It would be sundown and everyone would gather at the beach to see me off. Yes, yes, sundown on the last day of summer, as everyone’s life will undoubtedly be colder without me in it and I want to embrace the symbolism.
The funeral would begin with the guests chopping down the largest available tree, because like that tree, I have been cut down in the prime of my life. This will be required even if I have been senile for several years or have been living in an iron lung. This master log will be sliced up into three sections. One of the sections will become part of my pyre, one will be donated to a charity that needs logs, and the final one will be ground up into little action figures of me that my funeral guests will take home as party favors.
Hymns will be sung at the beginning, but they will not be the traditional funeral music. “When Doves Cry” by Prince will be followed by Elton John’s “Candle In the Wind” and then the theme to Dawson’s Creek. By the end of these I assure there will not be a dry eye in the whole crowd, so we may need to add a party song at the end*, you know, to raise morale, because I don’t want to be downer.
The eulogy will be conducted by passing a microphone throughout the entire audience. This will be a good chance for anyone to not leave anything unsaid. Also it will give my haters a chance to make jokes at my expense and provide some of the younger children in the crowd with an opportunity to say “butt”, “penis”, or “dooty” into a microphone.
The pyre will then be lit, and cast off into the sea. The part of the ceremony where this happens should be similar to lighting of the Olympic Torch during the opening ceremonies. I’m not saying to make it EXACTLY like that, but they do a good job with it, so maybe use it as a jumping off point, you know? I mean, I’m dead you’ll have to organize this.
At this point the crowd will disperse and head for the wake, which will be held at a Denny’s of course.
*Naturally, my choice for the party song will be “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”.