Chrislip Man Accidentally Cremates Himself

“Our town is so small, we had to shoot somebody to start a cemetery.”  That’s an old joke, and while it’s a historical fact in Chrislip, these days our once-thriving death industry has again fallen on hard times.

No one knows this better than local bone-yard director Arthur Booth, who dearly hopes that your dying words will be “Bury me in Chrislip.” Like many small towns with a declining population, Chrislip is finding fewer and fewer bodies to bury. Our best and brightest moved on years ago and chose to rest in perpetuity beneath greener pastures. This and the trend toward cremation have left Mr. Booth with many empty plots and an equally empty calendar. “I know it’s kind of creepy,” said Mr. Booth, “but it gets lonely around here when no one dies.”

These days, local funeral director Jerry Little feels Mr. Booth’s pain. “Absent a serial killer or another Columbine, I just don’t know how the death industry will survive in Chrislip.”

That’s when the two decided to take matters into their own hands. No, they didn’t arm themselves with semi-automatic weapons and storm the elementary school. Teacher Mrs. Johnson brought her fourth grade class to the cemetery for a field trip featuring balloons, hot dogs, and pony rides. With the help of a local rock band, the Groin Pulls, the children were literally dancing on the graves of their grandparents. Mr. Little even donned a clown costume to help entertain children he hopes someday to embalm.

A local funeral director reacts angrily when a 4th grade student suggests that cremation is friendlier to the environment

“To show the kids that death is the ultimate extreme sport,” said Mr. Little, “we planned for Arthur’s cousin to sky dive into an open casket. Unfortunately, his aim was off and he landed in the barbecue pit instead.” There the younger Mr. Booth was burnt to a crisp, leaving nothing more than ashes and a mixed message.

“It might seem appropriate for someone who never achieved their life’s ambition to end up as dust, scattered to the wind like so many broken dreams,” said Mr. Booth, referring to his nephew’s accidental cremation. “But, to me, it’s much more comforting to know that I’ll spend eternity trapped in a box six feet beneath the ground.”

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  1. Yes, youth marketing! Get the parlor to make up some cheap promo skate boards and hand them out around places with concrete steps and metal railings, Then you dare them to “trick” and watch the fun as they try to stop with wrists, face, and genitals. If they hesitate, call them a pussy and double dog dare them. Then just sit back and count the profit!

    • chrislipjournal
    • August 27th, 2010

    It worked! They’re stackin’ up like cordwood!

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