A Ghoulishly Good Gossip Session
Bartholomew "Barty" Bile wasn't your average necromancer. He didn't seek power, nor eternal life. Barty, bless his morbid little heart, sought *answer...
morbid-humor
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Agnes and the Atmospheric Exit
Agnes hummed a jaunty little tune as she considered Mr. Henderson. Or rather, what was left of Mr. Henderson. The family had requested an open casket,...
The Butcher's Blocked
The flickering fluorescent light hummed, casting a sickly pallor over the dozen or so attendees arranged in a rough circle of folding chairs. "Welcome...
The Petunia Plot
Agnes Periwinkle, even in death, was a high-maintenance client. Her last will and testament stipulated not just cremation, but a full ecological re-in...
A Grave Inconvenience
Arthur found the first one in his garden shed, nestled rather unceremoniously between the lawnmower and a forgotten bag of potting soil. "Oh, for heav...
The Enthusiastic Undertaker
Bartholomew "Barty" Blackwood, proprietor of "Blackwood & Sons, Est. 1888 (We've Been Dying to Meet You)," wasn't like other funeral directors. While ...
The Eternal Hold
Bertram, 78, had always imagined death would be a grand, dramatic affair. Perhaps a heroic last stand against a swarm of killer bees, or a noble sacri...
Barty Blackwood and the Perpetual Post-Mortem
Bartholomew Blackwood wasn't a particularly remarkable man, save for one minor detail: he simply couldn't stay dead. It wasn't glorious, heroic resurr...
Barnaby's Baffling Bisque
The annual Ponderosa Pines Potluck was typically an exercise in culinary predictability. Mrs. Henderson’s green bean casserole always tasted vaguely o...
A Smoothie with a Side of Eternity
Barry’s last conscious thought was that the kale smoothie, despite its exorbitant price, was really quite gritty. Then came the sudden, alarming closu...
Aunt Mildred's Surprisingly Useful Afterlife
When Aunt Mildred finally kicked the bucket – quite literally, it turned out, tripping over her own gout-ridden foot – I inherited her sprawling, decr...
Gravity, Petunias, and the Grim Reaper
Gary, the Grim Reaper (he really preferred 'Gary,' found 'Lord of the Underworld' far too… showy for his civil service gig), sighed. A non-existent br...
The Perils of Post-Mortem Petunias
Bartholomew wasn't a murderer by trade; he was more of a 'things just happen' kind of guy. And 'things' had definitely happened, currently occupying h...
Barty Bumble's Grand Finale
Bartholomew “Barty” Bumble was not your average funeral director. For one, he hummed. Constantly. And for another, he believed every departure from th...
Arthur's Afterlife Apparel
Arthur adjusted the silk tie on Bartholomew 'Barty' Butterfield. Barty, a retired haberdasher, looked remarkably... well, *dead*. Which was, Arthur su...
The Gribbles Family's Full-Circle Farewell
Bartholomew "Barty" Gribbles inherited "Gribbles & Son (and now Nephew) Undertakers," a business so dead, it needed its own funeral. Coffins gathered ...
Jelly, Rigor, and the Reaper's High-Five
“You get used to the smell,” Bartholomew 'Barty' Bumble declared, not unkindly, to the new intern, Agnes. “Or you don't. And then you usually quit.” ...
The Deceased's Last Laugh (and a Rather Stiff Upper Lip)
Bartholomew "Barty" Guzzle considered himself a connoisseur of the deceased. Not in a macabre, Hannibal Lecter way, but in the nuanced art of making t...
The Heirloom with the Hound's Gaze
Nigel, a man whose enthusiasm far outstripped his talent, inherited his Aunt Mildred's prize-winning Pekinese, 'Duchess.' Duchess, unfortunately, didn...
A Grave Matter of Taste
Bartholomew "Barty" Digglesworth, fifth-generation gravedigger, always said Mondays were his least favorite. Not for the back-breaking work, mind you,...
The Connoisseur of Corpse Chic
Mildred, ever the connoisseur of final farewells, adjusted her veil. "Pine?" she murmured, eyeing the deceased's last earthly abode. "For a man who ow...
The Splintered Smile
Mortimer "Morty" Grave hummed a jaunty tune, meticulously dabbing at a particularly stubborn patch of... well, *splinters* on what used to be Mr. Hend...
My Posthumous Pet Peeves
Evelyn scribbled furiously in her will, a wicked grin playing on her lips. “Item four,” she dictated to her very uncomfortable solicitor, Mr. Finch, “...
Agnes and the Perpetual Post-Mortem
Agnes, administrative assistant at 'Eternal Rest & Discreet Disappearances, Inc.', sighed dramatically, though no one was around to appreciate her fla...
The Ultimate Pre-Need Planner
Arthur was a meticulous planner. His 401K was optimized, his garden was manicured, and his death? Oh, his death was a masterpiece in the making. He di...