Andi:

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Not the turnout I would’ve liked. Still…could've been worse. Aunt Carol’s there. She’s crying, which is touching. She also cried when that dog died on Casualty, so let’s not get too excited about that one. And over there, Tina from work. Barely spoke to me in the seven years I’ve known her, yet here she is, shaking her head slowly with her eyes closed like she’s about to kick off a jazz solo. Sam’s over there, here for the buffet, we all know that.

(Beat)

Coffin’s taking a while, it’s a miracle anyone’s still here. I wonder if they couldn’t lift it. They’ve probably got Ethan in the middle and he’s got arms like bendy straws. I don’t know how he lifts his toothbrush in the morning, I really don’t.

(Pause)

None of this is my plan by the way, that feels like it needs to be said. Then again, going through my windshield along the A4 wasn’t my plan either but here we are. I could say “drunk drivers, they’ll be the death of us all!” or “a lad on his phone cut me off!”, but the truth is I wanted to change my Spotify playlist at 80 miles an hour and David Bowie was cut short by my radio going through a tree.

(Beat)

I’m hoping that there’ll be some good food afterwards, proper sandwiches, not just ham and cheese that are ninety percent dry bread. I’m thinking BLT, pulled pork, proper food. And no cliché music either. I don’t want songs that everyone else has, I want someone to have had an original thought and play something decent. I’m not bothered if it’s a Butlins DJ as long as the music’s alright. Ooh, speaking of, doors are opening, here’s the main event.

(Frank Sinatra’s My Way plays)

Good, well that’s test one failed. And to make matters worse, Ethan’s arms are shaking like mad and if he drops me I’ll kill him. I wonder how I look in there. The go-to answer would be “like I’m asleep”, but I sleep sort of like badger roadkill, curled up on my side with my tongue out. ‘Used to sleep like that’ I should say. Do I still sleep? I’m not sure actually. I haven’t felt tired yet, although I guess this is the eternal sleep so I wouldn’t. I hope I look slightly better than that.

(Beat)

Here comes the vicar, who I literally never met but will proceed to make casual remarks about how he’s heard that I was kind and caring from family and friends, none of whom have ever called me kind or caring. Do you think a member of the church has ever said to a family “what was he like?” and the family responded with “wanker. Just a terrible person. Got fired from eleven jobs for theft”? It’d probably get spun into “A rebellious spirit, he always sought new challenges and never settled for convention”.

(Pause)

Ooh, cousin Pete’s off to the toilet. Bladder problem. I don’t know if I need to pee either. I’ll have to remember to ask that.

(Pause)

Here we go, here’s the eulogies, the best part. Here’s where everyone tells stories about how fun and lovable I am. Was. Although I know I still am, they just can’t hear it.  Mum’s up first. She’s not even started speaking yet and Aunt Carol’s started wailing. I wonder if she even knows what’s happening. Strong start from Mum, opening with my phobia of Weetabix. It looks weird. Like a two-hundred-year-old potato. Sort of dry and flat. I don’t need that in my life, or my death. Oh and look, someone couldn’t even be bothered to show up on time. Who’s this? Shit. That’s Charlie. I haven’t seen Charlie for…well a while. A long while. Charlie can’t be doing a eulogy, surely. What would be said? Nothing anyone wants to hear right now. Then again, nobody wants to hear about my childhood obsession with Big Bird but that’s currently happening, and Pete’s just come back from the toilet, so all’s well so far.

(Pause)

Mum’s wrapping up. That was…mostly fine. Bit sentimental, but that’s to be expected. At least she left out anything about bedwetting. Small mercies. Who’s up next? Oh, it’s Liam, good choice. We were mates for years. He’ll say something funny, keep it light-hearted.

(Pause)

Bit of a pause, mate, but that’s fine, work up to it. No rush. Anytime now. Grandad’s fallen asleep…I hope. Oh, here he goes. What’s he doing? He’s doing a little throat-clear, a deep, shaky breath. Don’t you dare cry. Don’t you dare make this a thing. Say something. Say something about that time I thought I saw Noel Edmonds in Ikea. He’s welling up…and there it is. It’s gone, it’s all gone. Everyone’s lost their heads. Wait, wait, no he’s pulling it back! Yes, here we go, Edmonds! Good man, solid recovery. 

(Beat)

Grandad’s woken up, thank God for that. Didn’t need to be stuck with him forever.

(Beat)

It’s just a sea of tears. I never wanted this, I didn’t want it to be a sad day, I wanted it to be a party, a bit of a laugh. People dancing and telling jokes. Like a slightly grey circus.

(Pause)

Here we go, this is more like it, the whole third row has stood up. Yes! This is it! And the fourth! This is the time for partying!

(Beat)

Oh…no…no hang on…great. Pete’s pissed himself.