Thursday Tiny Tale – Death Where is Thy Sting?

Mrs De-Ath hurried along the high street on Monday morning to open her florists on time, but she stopped dead in her tracks as she passed the window of the new people.

We Put the Fun in Funerals said the bright yellow sign at the top of the display.  Filling the large bay shop window was what could only be described as a model fairground meeting a pop festival and all drenched in a rainbow.

They had heard only that a funeral directors was moving into the vape shop closed down by the police. That had seemed excellent news with the prospect of new customers ordering wreaths and perhaps the occasional imaginative arrangement. The shop had been boarded up for a few weeks with the hopeful noises of improvements.

She peered closer at the Barbie doll lying in a pink coffin. Above it was a rainbow shaped notice.

As Mrs De-Ath shook her head in bewilderment and looked at her watch, the door flew open and a figure like an aging Alice in Wonderland stepped out.

‘Greetings, you’re Mrs Death from the flower shop aren’t you?’

‘Mrs Delia De-Ath from the florist.’

‘Well I’m sure we’re going to get along, I’m Morticia.  I hope you have lots of exotic flowers.’

‘Um, our customers are quite a conservative bunch… it’s all daffodils and tulips at the moment.’

‘I hope to change that then, I expect your locals could do with a good shake up.’

‘I think a good shake up might finish them off.’

‘All the better, more customers for me.’

Morticia went off into gales of laughter.

Delia scurried away, mumbling about opening times.

She did not have any customers that morning, everyone in town seemed to be popping in to meet Morticia. After lunch a gaunt young man dressed as a Goth sidled into the shop.

‘Greetings, Edwin, Edwin Drood, Morticia’s assistant, glad to meet you Delia. Now, do you have black daffodils?’

‘Goodness, no such thing. I thought bright colours were the er… theme of your establishment.’

‘Do I look as if I like bright colours? We cater for all tastes and our first customer is a Goth, was a Goth. We can get the black horses and the glass hearse, but his widow thought it would be a real laugh to have black flowers.’

‘The nearest I can do is dark purple tulips, or if there is time, perhaps I could see if my supplier could obtain a black orchid.’

Whatever Delia De-Ath thought of the new funeral directors, she felt she couldn’t turn down any business. The whole parade of shopkeepers and many locals turned out to see the Goth’s hearse leave. In a carriage behind, the widow and family all wore black orchids.

When Delia heard that they were going to have a biker’s funeral she wondered what the turnout would be and what the biker would be carried in. A large order of sunflowers did not fit the biker image.

On the day a huge line up of motorbikes blocked the high street and had shoppers gawping. They were all dressed in bright colours and greeting each other effusively, laughing and joking and sharing stories of Mad Mike. Delia approached Morticia who was even more colourful than usual.

‘What will his coffin come in?’

‘Oh no coffin, his bike’s on a trailer, as per Mike’s wishes. Ah here he is…’

Delia gasped. ‘That’s surely not him, sitting ON the bike, grinning?’

‘Yes, he wanted to be plasticized.’

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