Surprisingly, he wasn’t very nice.
Yesterday, I passed by a black bear as I was hiking. He was leaning on a boulder, eating a rabbit for lunch. As I was passing him, he looked me straight in the eyes, with blood dripping from his mouth. He paused for a long time, silently staring into my soul.
The bear flicked me off with his right paw as he held the dead rabbit in his left paw. “You should dig a big hole and bury yourself in it!” he screamed. I nodded my head in agreement. Trembling fearfully, I walked away as fast as I could.
That evening I could not stop thinking about the bear and what he told me. He haunted me in my nightmares and invaded my sex dreams.
Usually, I have nightmares about getting arrested for smuggling drugs in the 80’s. But last night the bear was the police officer arresting me. Luckily, he forgot to recite my Miranda rights so I knew I would be out of jail quickly. In my typical sex dream, I am fornicating with my neighbor, Cheryl. But last night the bear interrupted us and offered me a condom as he said, “Safe sex is good sex!”
As I woke up earlier today, I felt the need to grant the bear’s wishes to dig a hole and bury myself. Mostly because I feared he would kill me if I didn’t.
I jumped out of my bunk bed, carefully placed my ninja turtle slippers on my feet, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. It’s a small kitchen with a bathroom sink and a hamster wheel. My hamster, Gerald, used to roam around the countertops. Now he is dead from a bird attack.
The coffee maker beeped, indicating it was time to fill my belly with 23 oz. of caffeine. I filled my grey Yeti thermos to the rim and started sipping. “Ah, delicious.” I’ve been drinking coffee since I was born. Mom used to say it makes my bones grow strong.
With my coffee thermos, I headed outside to my recently totaled 2006 Blue Honda Civic. My shovel is in there because I dug a hole last week to bury a man I killed for the Chicago Western Mob. They paid me $1000.00. It’s good money for two hours of work.
With the shovel in my right hand and the thermos in my left, I walked to the backyard and browsed for good hole spots. Maybe by the fence line? Underneath the avocado tree? This was a difficult decision. I felt pressured to pick a good spot since it was my grave.
Finally, I decided to dig in-between the fence line and the avocado tree. I pierced the grass with my shovel and commenced digging. Right away, I felt like a hole-digging master. I was digging so fast that my neighbor yelled, “Nice digging!”
There is dirt everywhere. In my hair, up my nose, and in my coffee. But I do not care. I have accepted my fate, and I will die today in this hole.
Ten minutes passed, and I was 4 feet deep and 2 feet wide. I took a sip of coffee. Twenty minutes passed, and I was 8 feet deep and 6 feet wide. I took a sip of coffee.
I continued digging and drinking coffee. Sweat was dripping down my face, and I could feel my ass was wet. I smelled myself and gagged almost instantly. I should have showered today as it is my funeral.
Suddenly, as I was digging, I started feeling dizzy. I must have been dehydrated. I had drank so much coffee today. I should have felt fine, but I wasn’t.
The dizziness caused me to fall into the hole. I was in pain due to the impact of the fall, and I could not move.
Was this how it was supposed to end? I was disappointed with my burial.
I expected it to be more of an event. I thought my neighbors would gather around to watch. I was hoping someone would bring balloons and pigs in a blanket. But it’s just me, alone in my backyard, dying slowly inside a hole I dug for myself to die.
Now, I start thinking about the bear. Maybe he was joking. Maybe this is a misunderstanding. I don’t have a good sense of bear humor, but maybe I took a good joke too literally.
It doesn’t matter. It’s too late. I am already dying in a hole, as the bear recommended.
I guess this is it. I am now in a void of emptiness, awaiting my death.
I begin to die. I am dead. Goodbye.
Wait, someone needs to fill the hole. I don’t want to get sunburnt.
