cg138 wrote:grimmy82 wrote:he did tell me to 'go die.' That wasn't cool.
Seriously. I mean, it's not much of an insult, is it?
I would have gone with:
I hope your mother dies a painful syphilis related death, and when you have the wake, her corpse reawakens, and she bites your father, turning him into a zombie. Your parental zombies would then begin to consume the brains of everybody you know and love at the wake. You have to smash open a nearby fire emergency panel, which inexplicably has an axe in it, and hack the heads off of your undead folks.
Only decapitation isn't as easy as you thought. It takes you 6 cleaves to sever your mother's spinal column, and you hear the scrape of metal on bone each time you bring down the axe.
Your mother dispatched, you fix your sights on your approaching father. You're tired. Every strike with the axe is an almost insurmountable burden, sending the painful shock of lactic acid shooting through your overworked arms. As you bring down the now dulled blade laterally into the top of your dad's skull, you're reminded of the first baseball game he brought you to. You remember it well. Oh, how simple life was back then. You begin to sob uncontrollably as you attempt to pull the weapon from your now doubly deceased father, the fractured remains of his cranium crunching sickeningly with the exertion. It's no use.
Your parents' badly brutalized remains lie mangled, dormant. The empty, accusing stare in their eye calls out to you.
"You did this to us" they seem to say.
You collapse on the ground, shaking, sobbing, terrified. What did you do to deserve this?
The remaining undead close in around you, the stench of putrified flesh burning your nostrils. You want to run. You won't die here.
As you attempt to rise to your feet, what was once your uncle grabs at your hair. You pull away, feeling the searing pain of your scalp being peeled from your skull. Your eyes burn from crying. You couldn't have seen the funeral director approach from the side. He sinks his teeth into the back of your neck. It feels at first like a great weight pushing down on you, but you soon feel the damage. Warm blood flows down your back, the wound pulsating and gurgling in synchronization with your heartbeat.
You feel light headed. Everything appears to be blanketed in a gray haze; You feel as if you are looking through the eyes of someone else. A stranger in a morbid practical joke, maybe. You feel the distant sensation of hands touching you. The warm embrace of loved ones who have passed?
This must be it!, you think to yourself. All of our hopes and dreams confirmed, an eternity of exuberance of and peace!
The benevolent hands tighten their grip.
You feel more teeth penetrating your skin.
Blinding pain.
No more thoughts.
Darkness.
