Wednesday, August 31, 2011
A Public Service Announcement from William Bludworth
People like to think it's easy being a mortician because all you have to do is fill dead
bodies with anti-decomposing goo. Yeah, that's fair. I couldn't do a job where I had to
listen to people talk all day. But what people don't know is that morticians are savvy to
all of Death's bullshit, and Death's an asshole.
Sometimes, people get away from Death and Death goes hunting them down. I have to
clean up the mess, and I'm sick of it. Three times now I've gone out of my way to warn
doomed teenagers that they are doomed, and there's nothing they can do about it. Do
they listen? Of course they listen. Do I explain things clearly to them? Well, maybe I
don't. Maybe teenagers scare me because I'm too old to hang out with them, and the
insecurity makes me speak in riddles and hide from them until they all get killed. I guess
maybe I arouse their curiosity or deliver faint hope and then abandon them to their
I do want to help them, though. No one likes seeing a bunch of teenagers go to waste
and not be able to go hang out with old folks who are children at heart and have all the
really cool video games just waiting at home.
I probably do more harm than good. I know what I look like. I know how my voice
sounds. I understand that when I silently stare at them from across the room, I might as
well have a hook for a hand and bees coming out of my mouth. There's no good excuse
for scaring doomed kids, but I do it anyway because a good man can't just sit back and
watch this stuff.
Regardless of what I do, however, the doomed kids always die because they are not
supposed to be alive in the first place. So instead of trying to warn them when it's
already too late, I've decided to write this and hopefully warn everyone while there's still
1. If you have a vision that you and all your friends are about to die, I'm sorry but you
just need to let happen. I don't know where your vision came from. It might be God
trying to make Death mad. It might be Death setting up a bit of exercise for himself. Or
maybe you're just psychic, in an utterly useless capacity.
Either way, you're better off dying unexpectedly in some giant accident which typically
kills you pretty fast. People that cheat death get to "enjoy" days of eyeballing everything
in a state of constant paranoia. And while some people get crushed quickly by giant
plates of glass, there's always the chance that your eyeball will get shot with laser
before you fall from a window onto a car, knocking your other eyeball in the street so a
van can comically run it over in 3D. Tell me this: would you rather have a tire knock your
head off in one second or have a pool drain suck your guts out your asshole for ninety?
2. If you do choose to save yourself, don't run around trying to get out of it. Instead,
realize that you've been gifted with a brief reprieve and use this time to set your affairs
in order. Write a will. Say goodbye to your parents. Go kiss that girl you were always
too scared to talk to. I tell you, seeing these teens die all the time has really changed
my perspective on life. I never let fear get in my way anymore, except for in situations
where I try to make new friends with a teen.
3. If you want to try and ensure a quick painless second death, loudly proclaim that
you're not going to die. I'm fairly confident something will kill you within that second, and
you won't feel a thing. This cockiness forces Death's hand, and it's about as close to
cheating him as you can get.
We all have to die, you know. It's hard, and sometimes maybe hurts a little, but that's
just how it rolls. There's a quiet dignity in accepting that. And who knows? Maybe
between the vision and the catastrophe, you'll have enough time to text your friend
Bludworth and tell him how sad you are that we never hung out. I have a phone that can