The Argyle Sweater by Scott Hilburn for November 06, 2018

One option: chainsaw.

Aw, c’mon. There must be room for a dozen dead clowns in that casket!

They’ll always remember those precious shoes of his.

The original Bigfoot.

I wonder how many of them will ride in the hearse?

“Aaarrrggghhh!!! It’s Sideshow Bob!”

An old farmer told me that when he was young, he and another fellow were hired to bury a dead, but prized, horse. It was a hot day and the ground was hard. They dug as deep a grave as they could and rolled the horse into it. The horse landed on its back, rigour mortis had set in, and its legs stuck straight up well above the ground. So they sawed off the legs and stuffed them into the grave along side the horse and covered it up. Unfortunately, the owner discovered what they did and refused to pay them for the day’s work.

One dead clown. That’s a good start.

He has a big sole.

Cremation=My last chance for a smoking hot body!

Died with his boots on?

You mean Dorothy could have had THOSE shoes instead of those crappy imitation ruby slippers?

He’s gone to that great pie in the face in the sky.

“Let’s bury him quick! He’s starting to smell funny!”

Its worse if the corpse is greatly corrupted an reach to burst from the gases built up over time. Happened to a dead king once. Quite the messy funeral.

They’re going to need a bigger…ah, what did the guy say?

“A little song. A little dance. A little seltzer down your pants…”