Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Marble

Congratulations! You've made it back alive. I could have sworn that fall down the back steps would've laid you out for a week.

As you can see, they're working here in the fourth room. It's hard to hear with all the rock saws going. What do you think? It's all marble. Floors, walls, ceiling - everything. Even the furniture's marble. The best, all the way from Italy. It's cool in the summer and cold in the winter. And hard? Let me tell you, you knock your shin into that table there, you will regret it. If you think it hurt falling down those steps, try falling down anywhere in here. They'll have to ambulance you out.

See those big drawers over there? That's the family mausoleum. Class, no? My dad's in the top one. My mom's sister is in the bottom one and my cousin Eddie goes in the middle one. When he dies. The rest of the family couldn't afford to be marbleized. Them that're dead are either in Shady Acres or in urns. Me, I'm saving up for one of those crypts in space. Timothy Leary, Carl Sagan and me - floating mummies in zero -g. That's the life. Or death, as it were.

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