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Death Plot

There's a big problem with funerals, as I see it. Even wakes. The big problem is that the main party involved doesn't get a chance to hear all the things that are being said about them. This, I feel, is a pity.

I think I'm going to have to fake my own death and then show up as a random mourner. I mean, wearing black and a fake beard and claim I'm my cousin from Argentina and not speak. Wearing a sign. "I'm Alloni's cousin from Argentina, not Alloni in a fake beard. And I don't speak English. Or Spanish. So don't try to talk to me, or comment when I occasionally mutter to myself insults towards people who didn't say anything suitably approving about me. Alloni, I mean." It's bound to work. So, when I send you all email saying that I'm dead, I'm really going to be dead, and not faking. Honestly. But I want it to be a big party anyway, a celebration of life defying death, and we'll all get really drunk/wasted/high on life/high on drugs/whatever. Except me, of course. I'll be dead. Dead as a doorstop.

Dead as a shortstop, even.