CHAPTER ONE




The sky was grey and cloudy as the mourners gathered at the church.
It was a average sized white building with two large wooden doors at the front and a steeple set into the roof. In short, it looked just like every other church in the world.

The service was to begin in the auditorium and then move to the lawn in the back of this house of worship according to the wishes of the deceased.

The church was magnificently crowded, the pews were full of people and there was scarcely room to stand in the back, for the deceased was a greatly loved man whose robust laugh and charm deeply affected all who witnessed them.

Also, there was talk of a keg.

As the preacher spoke solemnly of the deeds of the Dear Departed Paul, his friends were seated in the back row, rubbing their eyes and occasionally staring upwards. Sitting nearest to the aisle wearing a charcoal gray suit and sunglasses was Keith. He had been one of Paul's closest friends and he was wearing sunglasses not to shield the world from his tears, but to shield his eyes from the light, as he was tremendously hungover.

He and Paul had had many discussions over the years about what each of them was to do when the other died, and though he was hesitant to put Paul's wishes into action, he knew him well enough to know that when he spoke of his funeral arrangements, he was serious.

He took another swig from the bottle of Pepto-Bismol he had stored in his jacket pocket and swore under his breath.

"God Damned Circus People..."

His two friends to his right, also feeling the effects of last night's solemn mission, nodded their agreement.

Anthony, his closest friend since high school, was leaning forward and gripping the pew with all his might, as though it were his anchor in a Stream of Queasiness, that ran straight into the Rapids of Nausea, which in turn gave way to the Niagara Falls of Puking.

He had been over those falls twice that morning already.

Next to him was Thomas. Thomas was the both the largest and smartest of the three of them and so he didn't have nearly the trouble that the other two did. Partly because he could hold his liquor better, but mostly because he had been smart enough to stop drinking when the Lion Tamer pulled out an unmarked bottle from the cupboard and said,

"I have been saving this ever since I won it from that stupid gypsy."

Keith wet his parched lips with his tongue and tried in vain to decipher what exactly the priest was going on about. He checked the clock on his cellphone and scribbled a barely legible mental note to himself that he was going to have to buy a new cellphone soon, as this one was apparently full of gunpowder.

"God Damned Circus People..." He said again, this time a little louder so that an old lady in the pew in front of him turned around and glanced at him disapprovingly.

"What?" He asked rhetorically.

He had never had the patience for old ladies. Old men were great, full of stories of old wars, and old leaders, and what women were like before women's magazines took over. They dressed cool and were the only people in the world who looked good wearing fedoras. Old men commanded respect just by beating you at Connect Four, whereas old women just complained about the food being too hot, the hot water with lemon being too cold and the television being too loud.

Fucking Old Ladies.

"Just die already." Keith thought, and unfortunately, said out loud to himself, as the ten people within earshot all gasped and turned in unison to cast daggers at him from unamused eyes.

Thomas leaned over Anthony and whispered in Keith's ear, "Not today. Not here. Leave my Gram-Grams alone."

"Sorry, Tom." said Keith, "Sorry, Grandma Luna." He added, because the old bat still hadn't turned back around.

He tried a weak little nod and smile to appease the old crone, but she continued to stare at him, with her old fish eyes barely open and her jaw slackening so that he could see lines of saliva stringing from the roof of her mouth to her lower dentures. She must have been at least 90.
She wore a a dress made of black lace with a cheaply made matching hat which Keith was forced to focus on because she was staunchly refusing to take her watery eyes off of him and it was giving him the willies.

Although, he had to admit, he had to give her credit for the sheer physical effort it took to maintain what must have been an awkward position for so long without moving even an inch.
Or blinking.
Or speaking.
Or, apparently, breathing.

He reached up his hand and waved it in front of her still lifeless eyes and realized that she had done exactly as he had asked.

She had just died already.

He sat back and acted as if nothing completely and disturbingly creepy had just happened, and motioned to Anthony and Tom that they had better go out back and check that all of the arrangements were correct for Paul's Final Request. They filed out quietly as the Preacher went on about ashes and dust and went out a side door of the church. They stepped out into the harsh white sunshine onto the fresh cut green grass, and under a deep blue sky started walking around the building to the place where the ceremony was to take place, Anthony stopping to throw up in a bush along the way.

Keith was formulating the best way to tell Thomas about his Grandmother and decided that the best course of action was to just hang back and see how things played out. After all, Thomas dearly loved his Gram-Grams and had about 30 pounds on Keith, so maybe it would be better if someone else, someone who hadn't just suggested that she immediately should pass on to the afterlife, told her grandson about her demise.

They walked up to the platform that had been erected and sat down on it's edge.

The church had been built at the edge of a forest on a cliff overlooking the sea. The effect was truly stunning. The young men sat in silence and just stared out at the water, each thinking various thoughts about Paul; his sense of humor, his body weight, the mysteries of trajectory, and whether what they were about to do was legal or not.
Finally, Keith stood up and turned to the others.

"Well," he said reaching into the side pocket of his sportscoat and pulling out a thin, white cylindrical object made of paper and twisted shut at both ends, "We'd better get ready. It's almost one o'clock and they'll be coming out here to view the body soon. Does anybody have a lighter?"

And they made themselves ready for what was supposed to happen next.
Something that, according to Paul's Last Will and Testament, required the three of them to be completely stoned out of their minds, and also involved the giant red and blue circus cannon they were standing next to while they smoked their weed.