Mortimer loved being a mortician because not only did he get to dress dead bodies—he had had a bit of a necrophiliac streak ever since he was little and traumatized by all those crime shows he used to watch with his grandparents on weekend nights while his mum was busy at her part-time job as a waitress—but also because it was great for scaring little kids. Mort didn’t know why he enjoyed freaking people out so much—but it probably had something to do with his watching of crime shows. Once he even pretended to be dead in order to rise up out of the coffin during the wake and scare everybody. This had an interesting set of consequences.
It was a bright and stormy Tuesday evening, and everybody was so busy being sad that they didn’t notice when they approached the coffin that the body was moving. This was all part of the plan. Without warning and armed with only a pair of cheap vampire fangs, the kind you get five for a dollar at the corner shop, Mort rose up cheerily from his mahogany coffin and yelled blarg! as the lights switched off and Gothic music began playing. A panic and a minor fire later, the party finally figured out that it was just Mort playing a cruel joke on them. Half of them left, and so did the other half, too, but not before they had guilted the guest of honour into promising to make them a torte. Mort’s tortes were famous for being delicious.
At the after party, consisting of Mort and his partner-in-crime Todd, halfway through the third round a voluptuous vixen approached (it is necessary to add that their apparent voluptuousness and vixenity may have hinged on the intoxicating nature of tequila) and said, “I saw what you did today.”
“What?” Mort asked, wondering if this was some weird hallucination.
“The playing dead trick. That was priceless,” the vixen said, ordering something extremely sexy-sounding, although its sexiness may have also hinged on the intoxicating nature of tequila.
“Ah, yes. Well, I couldn’t have done it without the help of my trusty partner, Todd. He manages the business side of things…” A pause, and then: “Do I know you?”
“Only from your dreams,” she said between sips of her Hemingway champagne.
Mort pulled out his dream diary and skimmed the pages. Finally, he found what he was looking for: An entry entitled “Voluptuous Vampire Seduces Me Then Drinks My Blood”. “Huh,” he said, wondering why he carried his dream diary around with him. Well, he thought, I’m pretty sure this couldn’t end too badly…
(Part II will continue on Thursday)