by Robert Williams

Mick, Clive and Wayne were sitting in the cafe one day. Wayne was yawning his head off.

"Would you please stop yawning, I don't wish to see the inside of your mouth!" exclaimed Clive. "I've never wanted to be a dentist, and I don't want to start training now!"

"Sorry Clive!" yawned Wayne. "But I'm really tired! I didn't get to bed at all last night 'cos I went to an all-night rave run by Vickie the Dicar at the church 'all!"

"An all-night rave organised by Dickie the Vicar?!" exclaimed Clive, shuddering.

"Yes, Dickie's decided he isn't raising enough funds just holding two-hour discos, so he's extending them into all-night raves!" said Mick.

"It only finished an hour ago!" said Wayne. "So I 'aven't 'ad any sleep at all!!"

"Why don't you go to bed now then?" said Mick.

"What?! And miss out on Mrs G's delicious brekky?!" exclaimed Wayne.

Just then a hearse drew up outside.

"Oh dear, who's died?" said Mick.

"Des!!" exclaimed Clive as Des walked into the cafe.

"What? Des's died?!?!" exclaimed Wayne, alarmed.

"No I haven't!" said Des. "I've bought a hearse!"

"A hearse?" said Wayne. "Is that a female horse?!"

"No, no!" said Des.

"What on earth have you bought a hearse for?" exclaimed Clive.

"Because I'm fed up with all you lot squeezing into my Fiat 126 whenever we go on an outing," said Des. "But there's plenty of room in that hearse! So who wants go for a ride in it?! I can see you're all dying to!!"

"I'm not, I wouldn't be seen dead in it!" exclaimed Clive.

"Nor me!" said Mick.

"Lunchtime!" exclaimed Mrs Greasy, coming out of the kitchen. She placed their food on the table.

"On second thoughts, if I eat much more of this food I'll be in a hearse soon anyway!" exclaimed Mick. "I'm coming!!"

"Me too!" said Clive. "Wait for me!!"

Des, Mick and Clive rushed out of the cafe, followed by a yawning Wayne. Des took the driver's seat, and Clive quickly bagged the front passenger seat, leaving Mick and Wayne to get into the back area.

"Must say, it's quite spacious in the back here!" said Mick. "You can almost stand up!"

"Yeah, they do that in case people die standin' up!" said Wayne. "Hey, look at that, a nice wooden bed to sleep in!!"

"Um well, it's not exactly a bed, Wayne," said Mick.

"Cor, it looks cosy in there! And I'm feelin' really sleepy..."

Yawning, Wayne climbed into the open coffin, and was soon fast asleep. Mick tutted.

Meanwhile Des was driving the hearse off down the road. It wasn't exactly going very fast.

"Come on, can't you go a bit faster?!" exclaimed Clive.

"Clive, this is a hearse remember, it doesn't go any faster than this!!" said Des.

Just then they heard a clang. The front bumper had fallen off.

"Oh dear, oh dear, what's happened here?" said Des, stopping the vehicle. "Mike the Manic Mechanic told me this was a quality piece of kit!!"

He stopped the hearse, got out and fixed the bumper back on, then got back into the driving seat and carried on. But just a short distance later, the bumper fell off again. Groaning, Des stopped again, and fixed the bumper back on again. And then it happened again.

"This is getting ridiculous!" said Des. "I can't keep stopping every few seconds to put the bumper back on!!"

Once again he fixed the bumper back on, and seconds later it fell off again.

"I know," said Des. "Clive, you get out and walk in front of the hearse, and whenever the bumper falls off, you fix it back on again!"

"Me? Why me?!" said Clive.

"Just shut up and do it," said Des. "And don't walk too fast, otherwise I won't be able to keep up!"

Grumbling, Clive got out of the hearse, fixed the bumper back on and then proceeded to walk slowly down the middle of the road, with the hearse crawling along behind him. Seeing that Clive had now vacated the front seat, Mick leapt out of the back and took his place.

"How's things in the back?" said Des.

"Fairly dull," said Mick. "Wayne's fallen asleep in a coffin. I like that black suit Clive's wearing."

At that point the bumper fell off. Clive turned round, glared at Des and Mick, and fixed the bumper back on.

"This is getting boring," said Mick. "Put the radio on, 'Desert Island Discs' is on now."

Des switched the radio on.

"Welcome to 'Desert Island Discs'," said Sue Lawley on the radio. "Today I'm joined by my special guest, Sir John De'Ath, the recently retired head of the Association of British Funeral Directors."

"That's funny, what a coincidence," said Des.

They listened to Sir John droning on about funeral directing, and listened to some of his musical choices which included 'When I'm Dead and Gone', 'Funeral for a Friend' and 'Shaddap-you-face'. His luxury item was a bottle of embalming fluids.

"What luxury item would you take to a desert island?" asked Mick of Des.

"Umm...a boat!" said Des.

"Cheat," said Mick.

"All this desert island talk is making me feel rather warm," said Des. "I think I'll wind the window down."

"Your next musical choice, Sir John De'Ath, is perhaps not a surprising one," said Sue Lawley on the radio. "It's the Funeral March. Tell us about it."

"It's a march that gets played at funerals," explained Sir John.

"Let's listen to it," said Sue.

At that point they found themselves driving into the town centre. Everybody started looking at them.

"What are they all doing?" said Des, staring at the passers-by in bewilderment.

The passers-by were all taking their hats and caps off, and bowing their heads at them as they drove their hearse slowly down the high street, with the Funeral March blaring out, Clive walking slowly in his black suit in front of it and Wayne asleep in a coffin in the back.

"Erm, I think perhaps we might be giving out a slightly misleading impression," said Mick.

"I can't understand that," said Des. "Oi Clive, slow down a bit!!"

Some time later, they decided they should start heading home.

"What do you think are the chances of us getting home before it gets dark?" said Mick.

"Ummm, highly unlikely," said Des.

The chances of them getting home before it got dark faded even further when they broke down, right outside St Malcolm's church. Clive seized his chance and dashed off.

"Oh botherations!" exclaimed Des, trying to start the engine, but with no luck. "I'll have to ring up the AA."

But then Des realised that he didn't actually have a drink problem, so he decided to ring Mike the Manic Mechanic instead. He tried his mobile phone.

"Oh no, the batteries have run out," said Des. "Lend us yours."

"I haven't got a mobile phone!!" exclaimed Mick. "You should know that by now! I'm officially the only person left in the whole of Britain who doesn't own one!"

"Coh!" said Des. "We'll have to find a phone box then. Come on!"

They got out of the hearse and walked along the road looking for a phone box. It was quite a long walk before they found one.

"Did we have to walk all this way?!" moaned Mick. "You do realise Mike's garage is only just round the corner from the church! It would've been much quicker just to go and see him in person!"

"Oh stop complaining," said Des, ringing Mike's number.

Meanwhile, back at St Malcolm's church, Dickie the Vicar was locking up when he noticed the abandoned hearse parked outside. He went to investigate, and was amazed to see Wayne lying in the coffin, still fast asleep.

"It's Wayne!" said Dickie to himself. He removed his baseball cap as a mark of respect. "I don't even know he was ill!" He looked all around to see if the undertakers were about, but the place was deserted. "Those pesky funeral directors! They're always doing this!! As soon as the clock strikes five, they drop everything and scamper off home!"

He peered into the coffin.

"They haven't exactly done a good job of embalming him either! Well, you know what they say, if you want a job doing, you have to do it yourself!"

Dickie dragged the coffin out of the hearse and heaved it into the back of his Austin Montego estate (aka the Churchmobile). He then drove off back to the vicarage. As soon as he had gone, Des and Mick came walking back from the phone box. They did not notice that the coffin was now missing from the hearse.

"How long's Mike going to be then?!" said Mick.

"About this long," said Des, holding his arms out.

In fact, Mike turned up straight away, in his tow truck.

"Hi there, funeral director dudes!" exclaimed Mike. "Broken down already?!"

"Yes, and I don't think I really want to keep this thing anyway," said Des. "All the passers-by get the wrong idea. And the bumper keeps falling off. And it's a bit slow."

"Slow?!?!" exclaimed Mike. "Tell you what then, why don't I pop in a turbocharger, do a trendy paint job and call it 'The Suicide Hearse'?!?"

"Err, no thanks," said Des. "I've no wish to become 'the fastest funeral director in the west'! I'll be round in the morning to get a refund."

"In your dreams," said Mike. He fixed up the hearse to his tow truck, and drove it the massively short distance round the corner to his garage.

Meanwhile Wayne was still fast asleep in his open coffin, and was being whisked back to the vicarage. When Dickie got home, he removed the coffin from the back of his churchmobile, carried it up the garden path and rang the doorbell.

"Oh Dickie, I do wish you wouldn't keep bringing your work home with you!" said Mrs Dickie when she answered the door.

"Sorry Mrs Dickie!" said Dickie, bringing the coffin inside and taking it upstairs.

Dickie laid the coffin down on a table in the spare room. He searched around for the embalming fluids, but as soon as he found them he heard Mrs Dickie calling from downstairs.

"Oh my goodness, look at the time, 'Crossroads' is on!" exclaimed Dickie.

All thoughts of Wayne subsided from Dickie's brain as he dropped the embalming fluids and rushed downstairs to watch 'Crossroads'. After that he and Mrs Dickie had fish and chips for their tea, then they had a quick game of Ludo before Dickie had to rush off to the church hall to declare that night's all-night rave well and truly open. Meanwhile Wayne was left, still fast asleep in Dickie's parlour, and thankfully still unembalmed.

"I'm sorry, but this is going to be quite a sombre affair tonight," announced Dickie when everyone arrived at the rave.

"So what's new?" said Des.

"Wayne's dead!" said Dickie.

"Dead?!?!" exclaimed Mick. "He can't be!! He was fine this morning!!"

"How did he die?!" said Des.

"Well...I'm not exactly sure," said Dickie. "But I'm sure the mortuary people have already sorted all that out, otherwise he wouldn't have been released for the funeral!"

"There's something very strange going on here," said Mick.

"Well anyway, to help lift the mood, let's all get down to this groovy hit, it's Gary Numan and 'I Die: You Die'!!"

As the rave went on, Mick grew increasingly suspicious.

"People don't die just like that!" said Mick. "He was perfectly fine this morning, and he was perfectly fine this afternoon. So how, just a few hours later, can he now lying be in a coffin ready for his funeral?!"

"Dunno," said Des.

"I'm going to the vicarage to investigate!" said Mick.

"You just want to get out of having to spend any more time at this dreary disco," said Des.

"Well, that as well," said Mick.

"I'm coming with you!" said Des.

Des and Mick slipped out of the disco, leaving Dickie grooving by himself to a Dead or Alive record, and walked along the road to the vicarage. They rang the doorbell and Mrs Dickie opened the door.

"Hi, we've come to see Wayne," said Des. "To, er, pay our last respects."

"He's up there," said Mrs Dickie. She pointed upstairs to the spare room.

Des and Mick hurried upstairs and into the spare room. They went over and peered in at a rather pale Wayne.

"He doesn't look very alive to me," said Des.

"Hmmm," said Mick, not convinced. He tried slapping Wayne round the chops. "Wayne, wake up! Wake up!" He got no response.

"Oh come on Mick, let's not hang around here, it's depressing!" said Des.

"What's more depressing?" said Mick. "Standing here staring at a dead person in a coffin, or Dickie's disco?"

"Dickie's disco," said Des. "Let's stay here for a bit then."

They sat down for a while, with Mick keeping a careful watch on Wayne for any signs of movement, while Des sat with his arms folded and legs crossed.

"I'm thirsty," said Des after a while. "Oh look, Dickie left this drink behind. Looks nice!"

He picked up a jar and unscrewed the top.

"No Des, don't drink that!" said Mick. "It's embalming fluids!!"

"Yuck!" exclaimed Des, quickly putting the jar down again, but forgetting the put the top back on.

Dickie didn't get back from his all-night rave until 5.00 that morning. But before he popped to bed he suddenly remembered that he hadn't embalmed Wayne yet.

"Goodness, I'd better hurry up, it's his funeral in a few hours!" said Dickie to himself.

He went into the spare room but was surprised to see Des and Mick fast asleep on their chairs. He noticed the unscrewed jar of embalming fluids.

"Oh, they must have done it for me!" said Dickie. "What fine upstanding pillars of the community!"

After a few hours sleep, at 8.00 Dickie got up and went into the spare room to wake up Des and Mick.

"Eh?" said Des, opening his eyes and looking around in confusion. "What am I doing here?!"

"Never mind that Des, wake up! It's Wayne's funeral this morning!" said Dickie.

"What, already?" said Des. "He only died yesterday!"

"Oh yes, and you two will have be the undertakers," said Dickie.

"What?!" said Mick. "Why us?!"

"My regular undertakers are on holiday from today," said Dickie. "They've gone to the Dead Sea."

"I don't want to be an undertaker, it's a dead-end job!" said Des. "Anyway, it's too late Dickie, I've already sold my hearse back to Mike. It was a heap of junk, anyway."

"We'll have to use my churchmobile instead!" said Dickie.

"But it's the wrong colour!" said Mick. "It's beige!"

"Oh botherations, we'll have to paint it then!" said Dickie. "And quick! We've got to be at the church by 10.00!!"

Des nipped down the DIY store to buy a can of black paint, while Dickie grabbed some flowers from the garden to shove in the back of the car, much to Mrs Dickie's annoyance. Des and Mick then started to slap black paint onto the churchmobile.

Unfortunately time was so tight that Des and Mick hadn't had a chance to finish painting when Dickie threw the coffin into the back of the churchmobile and got ready to go.

"Oi Dickie, we haven't finished!!" exclaimed Des and Mick, who were sitting atop the churchmobile, painting the roof.

"Sorry Des, we're going to be late!" said Dickie. He leapt into the churchmobile and drove off, with Des and Mick still on the roof.

"Woaaahhhhh!!" exclaimed Des and Mick as the half beige, half black churchmobile raced up the road to the church. Thankfully it was only a short journey, and they soon drew up outside the church where a massive crowd, consisting of Clive, Mike, Mrs Greasy and Wayne's mates Shane and Dwayne, had gathered for the funeral.

"Why the rush?!" said Mick, as he and Des climbed off the roof. "I haven't even had time to change! Look at me, I'm hardly dressed for a funeral!"

"We'll soon change that," said Des. He took his paintbrush and, to Mick's dismay, slapped black paint all over his light-coloured shirt and trousers.

"Thanks Des," sighed Mick.

Undertakers for the day Des and Mick heaved the coffin from the back and carried it up the path and into the church where the gathering had sat down. When they had placed the coffin down, Dickie began to conduct the funeral service, which included a rendition of Wayne's all-time favourite song.

"This is 'U Can't Touch This' by MC Hammer, played by Mrs Marjorie Dawe on the church organ!" announced Dickie.

"God help us," sighed Des.

"Des!" hissed Mick.

As Marjorie played the song, Mick noticed that the coffin lid was starting to open.

"I knew it!" said Mick.

"Oh my god!" said Des when he noticed.

"Des!!" hissed Mick again.

"Oh my god!" said Dickie when he noticed.

Everyone gasped as the coffin lid continued to open. When it was fully open, Wayne sat up and stretched his arms. Marjorie stopped playing and screamed.

"Cor, that was a nice sleep! Hey, where am I?!" Wayne looked round and saw Dickie the Vicar staring at him, and realised where he was. "Oh no!!! Don't tell me I'm dead?!?! I am, aren't I?! I'm dead!!"

He hopped out of the coffin.

"So this is what the afterlife is like!!" said Wayne. He strolled down the church and out of the door. The others hurried after him.

"Wayne, you're not dead!" said Mick.

"Funny, bein' dead ain't that much different to bein' alive!" said Wayne. "Except that Des and Mick 'ave changed colour!"

Des and Mick looked at their hands and each others' faces, which were covered in black paint. Wayne continued to stroll down the church path to the road.

"And Dickie's churchmobile's changed colour as well...but only partly changed colour!!" said Wayne. "That must mean...I'm stuck between bein' dead and alive!!! Oh no!!!"

"Wayne, you're not dead at all," said Mick.

"Oh, aren't I?!" said Wayne. "Oh that's a shame, the afterlife looked quite fun!!!" He yawned and stretched his arms. "I'm feelin' pretty tired now, that wooden bed was rather comfy actually!"

To everyone's disbelief, Wayne turned round, walked back into the church and climbed back into the coffin. Marjorie fainted.

"Does this mean the funeral's back on?" said a confused Dickie. "Is he dead or alive?!?!"

"Naaah, I'm definitely alive!" said Wayne. "But I love these comfy wooden beds, can yer get one of these for me to put in me bedroom?!"

"Certainly Wayne, it'll be a pleasure!" said Dickie. "Would anyone else like one as well?"

"Over my dead body!" exclaimed Des.

Copyright © Robert Williams