Coroner

My new, part-time job is a freaking money machine!! All I have to do is bring the bodies in to my buddy, Ted, at the crematorium. Boom! $100 cash! And business is growing. I told my friend who runs the gym that if anyone drops from over exertion or whatever, just call me. Depending on their weight, maybe I’ll need a hand getting them into the trunk of my car, but other than that, it’s all good. He said “But what if they just fainted? We all just took a CPR class…” I pointed out that he doesn’t want to do CPR on some nasty fat guy, and he agreed. Let me handle it, I reassured him again. “But what if they’re still breathing?” I pointed out that after spending a day locked in the trunk of my car, parked for 8 hours in the blistering Florida sun at the parking lot of my day job, they most certainly are not breathing by the end of the day. In fact, you can’t get within 20 feet of my car on a day like today without knowing that something very dead is nearby. That trunk works like a crock pot, so now I keep a bunch of onions and celery in there so the drive over to the crematorium at night has me fantasizing about pot roast. Of course Ted can make a few extra bucks off any pacemakers, rings and dental gold, but I’m just a simple guy, $100 is plenty, I just bring them in. Some nights I get lucky and pick up two or three from under bridges and behind liquor stores. (Those people need extra onions, they’re pretty stinky to start with) The opportunities for extra income seem limitless. Monitor the ambulance dispatcher and get there first. No one questions you if you wear white and push a gurney. On nice days I take a ride through senior communities on a golf cart, looking for geezers snoozing on a park bench. A friendly tap on the head and no one questions why my cart-mate seems to be resting their head on my shoulder. “Oh, that’s sweet” they think. A quick ride to see Ted, and Boom! Another $100 cash! At this rate, I may even quit my day job