Barty Butterfield's Permanent Pitch

Bartholomew "Barty" Butterfield had a knack for finding the upside to, well, anything involving an actual downside. Like death. His current role at "Eternal Rest, Inc." as a grief counselor-slash-coffinsalesman was less a job and more a performance art piece. Take last Tuesday: a rather inconsolable widow, Mrs. Higgins, was weeping over her late husband. "Bernard always said he'd never leave me!" she sobbed. Barty, ever the professional, offered a sympathetic nod, a well-placed hand on her shoulder, and then a subtle gesture towards the open casket. "Indeed, madam. He certainly looks like he's staying put now, doesn't he? Very... committed." Mrs. Higgins looked at Bernard, then at Barty, then at Bernard again, a horrified gurgle escaping her. "Oh, you are awful!" she managed, a strangled giggle following. Barty simply offered his most reassuring smile. "Just trying to lighten the load, Mrs. Higgins. Bernard wouldn't want you weighed down by, shall we say, *his* newfound lack of portability." He then seamlessly segued into the merits of the 'Everlasting Embrace' mahogany model. "Holds a surprising amount of unsaid apologies, this one does. And its satin lining is excellent for those eternal naps; very breathable, should he... change his mind." He closed the sale. Barty always did. He truly believed in finding the silver lining, even if it was just the polished brass handle on a very expensive coffin, reflecting a very pale, very final face.