Everyone in your family is fighting over who gets to keep your dad’s cremains. Your sisters are grabbing at the urn and then it spills and the ashes land on the prayer card you were given at the church service.
“It’s sizzling,” one of your sisters says.
The prayer card turns black and floats up to the ceiling.
“Did Dad sell his soul to Satan?” you ask.
Your sisters remind you of all the get rich quick schemes your dad was into.
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” your sister Janet says.
Then the blood pouring from the light fixtures drowns you all and you die wishing you had a dad with better business sense.
Happy Cremains Day!
