
Life After Death
Nobody ever really dies when it comes to me.
There’s a lot of heavy lifting I have to do because of who I am and the job I do, and sometimes that doesn’t go well for people. Sometimes they end up with their brains bursting through their skull. Sometimes they get their legs broken. But just because it doesn’t go well, that doesn’t mean it has to end badly.
No, no, the end can be beautiful, I promise. The end can bring new meaning to what has been up until now a tawdry existence.
The end is quiet, but full of character. The end is a symphony after a god-awful racket.
I like to keep life in the eyes of those who join my special family. The eyes are a window to the soul after all.
Is there still a spark in your eyes, Harold?
It seems that you’ve been waiting a long time. And despite the length of time you’ve been here, there are only a few things I know for certain about you. I know you used to work for Zeus, and you had that spark in your eyes back then. I know you wanted to leave, and that’s when the spark left your eyes. But don’t worry, just because it left it doesn’t mean I can’t get it back. I’ve managed roadkill, I’m sure I can manage a wrinkled old man with a broken heart.
The heart doesn’t even matter. Zeus broke yours, and I’ll rip it out and throw it away. I don’t need the heart to be inside you to fill you full of love and joy.
Just a bunch of stuffing.
Many of my peers, when they kill someone, they use blocks of concrete, and send their foes to their watery graves. I can’t do that. They see death as the last big leap. They don’t think there is anything after death.
But I do. I think there is a great beauty in life after death. And that’s what I can offer you Harold. A life after death, full of beauty and purpose – something you’ve not had for many years as you’ve sat behind these bars of Death Row, wasting away your time. But as I fill you back up with purpose, and suture you closed in your final resting position, I can see just what I thought I would see. Your eyes, sparkling back to life.
Come and join my special little family, Harold. I like to call them my taxidermy terrors. You’ll find out more about them soon enough.
You see, I’m about to show you how beautiful life after death is, Harold, because that will in turn show me how beautiful life is after death ROW.
And geez, I can’t wait for a good old family day out with the terrors.
Because nobody ever really dies when it comes to me.
So come live forever, Harold.
-Guv.