Scenes from a Funeral

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Ah I love a good funeral. I know, I know, they’re meant to be sad occasions but to be honest these days it’s the only time I get to see the whole family together. Let’s have a look who’s here. Ah all the usual suspects.

Look at the state of Holli. Look at the fuss she’s making. Crying her eyes out, fanning her face with her hands in that annoying way young people do. She looks like she’d just been voted off X-Factor. Anyone would think this day was all about her. I mean I know her grandma’s in that box, but is she really that upset or is she just attention seeking? Jesus that girl needs to lose some weight too. I mean I know it’s all about the bass these days, but she looks like she’s eaten one.

And have you seen the face on Crystal, smiling like a demented dog. She could at least try to hide the joy she’s feeling. She’s actively enjoying this, like it’s one of her stupid dinner parties. Look at her working the room like a presidential candidate. Why not go the whole hog and get up there and dance on the coffin singing ding-dong the witch is dead? I guess she finally thinks she’s got Daniel to herself. I wouldn’t be so sure missy. Mums don’t let go that easily, even from beyond the grave.  Boy it’s warm in here. Oh god I hate this song. When did they stop playing hymns at funerals? Do we really need Hallelujah? I bet Crystal chose that; after all it’s probably what she’s thinking.

Christ, is Mark checking his phone? Bloody hell he is? I could understand if there was a match on, but it’s 2pm on a Tuesday! He’s probably got a new woman who he can’t stand being away from for more than 3 minutes. Always got a new piece of skirt that boy, complete slut he is.  Cheeky bastard though; head bowed pretending he’s upset when really he’s typing sweet nothings to some Jezebel in Maidenhead.  Mind you he’s scrubbed up well. That boy looks good in a suit. Is it me or is it really getting hot in here?

Oh here we go, some words from the son. Come on Daniel keep it together now. You can do this; make your old mum proud. Jesus stop touching your nose; it looks like you’re picking it and everyone knows you touch your nose when you’re lying. And you missed a bit when you were shaving; it’s your mum’s funeral and you’ve got a tuft of hair coming out of your cheek like a David Beckham ponytail. Stand up straight boy, and do your tie up. God I really am hot now.

Who’s that old man at the back? I recognise him from somewhere.

Oh my good god it’s Jack Rogers. I haven’t seen him for years. What the hell is he doing here? I reckon the last time I saw him was that night in the old Bindles. Broke my heart he did when he ran off with Beryl Evans. Why is he here today? You don’t think he’s here for me? Bit late to rekindle that now Jack Rogers. Although for a man in his eighties, he’s still a bit of a catch.

Well that’s the service over, it’s time to go I suppose. Get your handkerchiefs out folks; it’s the bit where I slowly slide through the curtain to the strains of Elton John. Next time you see me, I’ll be in a nice little urn.