Funeral Passing This story may contain adult content.

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A story about a girlfriend's family and their strange grieving habits. 

Holly had invited me to her grandfather’s funeral in the exact fashion one would a wedding. I received a black invitation with white lace cordially inviting me to the Peskidan’s send off ceremony for their deceased. Holly and I had been going out for two months and now I was finally being forced to meet her family….at a funeral. This was going to be a fuckin’ hoot ‘n a holler I could tell. I picked Holly up at her place and we rode to the event in silence. When we got there it was the basic church set up where all people were honored in, with all the sad faces, and a respectable picture of the old man resting above his coffin. “This might get weird,” was all Holly said as we sat down. The priest came to rest behind his podium and spewed out scripture, praised the deceased, and most important provided a thin veil of comfort for family and friends. All of the proceedings went as normal as any other funeral I had been to. In fact, to tell the truth I was bored to tears here. I just sat next to Holly with my arm over her shoulder nodding my head in understanding whenever she addressed me. A Clash song was stuck in my mental stereo and I was having trouble remembering the bridge when I noticed everyone getting up. “Everyone down to the basement please,” the priest said. “Well this is different,” I thought.

So we followed the casket down a flight of stairs and into the basement where there was a circle of chairs. “We will now pass the deceased around and remember only the fondest of memories as he sits on our lap.” The priest said. “What the fuck is going on?” I mumbled to Holly. “Just go with it.” She replied back. Her grandmother was the first to reflect fondly on her husband’s life as he sat motionless in her lap. “I remember this time when Hank and I were…..” I couldn’t listen to this. I couldn’t just sit around a bunch of strangers as they passed a corpse around reminiscing about how great he/it was. As I stressed on about the situation in my mind the body was getting closer and closer to me. An elderly man with a pinstriped suit was currently holding Hank talking about how they used to steal liquor from the local market as boys. I couldn’t get a proper view but it almost seemed that the man was rubbing Hank’s inner thigh. His turn ended and as the body was passed, to the left I noticed, the priest was continuously getting up to aid the weak and elderly in the task of getting the deceased onto their laps. The dead body was currently residing on a Miss Susanne C. Phillips, a woman three laps from my own. She was talking about how her, Hank’s wife Beverly, and Hank had been close friends for a number of years and went on to some obscure story that may or may not have been true. I was too preoccupied with the thought of Hank making his way to my lap to effectively listen and deliberate. Sweat was pouring down my face like a rapid waterfall as my eyes scanned the room looking for some kind of escape from the mad faces that were surrounding me. “Just how the Hell was I going to get out of this?” I thought before Beverly, Holly’s grandmother, shouted, “You what!?” at the top of her lungs. “You had sex with my husband when I was pregnant with my daughter!?” She screamed. “You slut!”

Holly’s Grandmother lunged at Susanne sending her and Hank sprawling to the floor. The two women rolled around slapping and scratching one another with a youthful ferocity. Fists were thrown and connections were made as they tumbled around the room. At one point the two rolled over Hank’s arm resonating a snap that made everyone in the room cringe and I do mean everyone. Beverly and Susanne paused for a moment to recoil at the unpleasantness that had occurred just below them. During the unspoken timeout Beverly sent her razor sharp fingers across Susanne’s cheek breaking the skin and sending the old woman into a new rage. It was the perfect moment to escape but I was too shocked at what I was seeing to realize this. Susanne had rolled on top of Beverly ripping her dress in the process. Trying to reflect the vicious blows being delivered Beverly lashed out blindly slashing Susanne’s dress into pieces. I was horrified at the elderly cat fight that I was seeing but I couldn’t look away. Despite the blubbery white veined flesh that protruded from their tattered dresses I found myself becoming mildly excited. “We should’ve brought a video camera,” I whispered to Holly who looked at me with a shock-enraged face that basically told me our relationship had ended. Stepping back from the coldness coming from Holly I looked on at the hotness sprawled out on the floor. When I wasn’t looking Susanne and Beverly had begun to make out. “Holy shit!” I yelled in disbelief ruining the moment.

Snapping out of their erotic trance the women took a moment to gather their composure and mumble out some vague apologies. The priest brought out some blankets covering Susanne and Beverly who returned to their seats. As if nothing had happened Hank was back on the lap trail being remembered just as what his wife and mistress had done was being forgotten. The body was only two laps away and if I didn’t want some deceased adulterer pressing against the erection I couldn’t get rid of I’d have to think of something quick. “Excuse me,” I said politely when the Hank holder was finished talking. “But I’ve got to go to the bathroom. You can just skip me for now.” “Nonsense,” Beverly objected. “You’re going to be part of the family some day so we might as well consider you one now. We can switch yours and Holly’s turns so you can make your peace.”

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