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Funeral Fuckfest

Maya D'Souza

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Funeral Fuckfest

by Maya D'Souza


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Friday, when I was just about to wrap up my work and leave my office, my mum gave me a ring.

“Hi, sweetie! What are you doing after work tonight?” She chimed in her usual warm voice.

“Uh, nothing much. I think Rebecca is coming over and we are gonna watch a movie together or something. Why?” I replied in my usual flat tone.

“Oh, honey, your grandpa wants you to spend the weekend with us. He has some wishes, as he says, for his upcoming 80th birthday, and he wants to discuss them with you.

Grandpa. Yes, I almost forgot about him, even though he was the reason why I sort of avoided going home on the weekends. His overenergetic nature at the age of 79 used to bother me a lot. It reminded me of my own crankiness, which I wasn’t proud of.

“Argh, here we go again..”

“Sweetie, he loves you, and he is getting old. We are all grateful to have him in our lives. It’s the least we can do for him,” she said in a soft, affectionate tone, which was her way of bossing us around.

“Fine, I’ll be there.”

“Great, bring Rebecca along! Dave, Mike, and Ben & Beth will all be here too! We will be waiting for you! Ahh, finally a real family dinner…”

She hung up before I could protest and before her own sentence was finished.

Great. I said to myself.

I gave a call to my girlfriend on the way to the parking area. When she picked up, I quickly explained to her that we wouldn’t be spending the night at my apartment because we were going for dinner at my parents’ and that I would be by her door shortly to pick her up. So I told her to hurry up and get dressed.

She didn’t oppose the idea. Rebecca liked my family more than I did. She was always the one more interested in spending time with them, especially Ben, my youngest cousin, twin brother to Beth. Rebecca and Ben were both quite fond of each other, particularly because they matched each other’s vibe, which was pretty annoying if you asked me.

I’m glad Rebecca isn’t all that playful around me. That kinda behaviour really sets me off. To be honest, any energetic people set me off. They remind me of motivational speakers who haven’t had a bad day since 2006.

I picked her up from her place in her white lacy blouse and a green midi skirt. She looked kinda cute, but I didn’t always compliment her on her looks because she asked if I meant it, then asked me to rank her against Megan Fox, then cried when I said Megan was the fictional level of hot.

We drove to my parents’, mostly in silence, except for a few words exchanged about work and the weather.

When I pulled over outside my home, I instantly regretted the idea of accepting my mum’s invitation. The house was buzzing with the loud voices of my siblings and cousins arguing with each other over something silly.

I couldn’t exactly hear what they were talking about, but I was sure that it was something stupid.

Just a typical family dinner, ya’ll. That’s it.

“Aww, seems like they are having a good time!” Rebecca squeaked, “Can’t wait to join them!”

I didn’t say a word. I was annoyed beyond measure. I hate loud noises, and I hate people, and I hate it when people make loud noises.

I just wanted to get this night over with and couldn’t wait to get back to my own apartment and sleep peacefully.

Dinner was nice, as expected, and the only reason why I could ever say yes to that. Slow-cooked pot roast with red wine gravy, buttery mashed potatoes, honey-glazed carrots, steamed green beans, fresh-baked rosemary focaccia, and my mum’s special apple pie with vanilla ice cream and wine.

When the dinner was served and we were at it, everyone made sure to throw a bunch of questions at us.

“So, Matt, when are you proposing to Rebecca?” My aunt brought up at some point, “You’ve been together long enough. It’s time to move to the next stage, don’t you think?”

I choked on my wine, and Rebecca blushed, looking at me expectantly, clearly, marriage has been on her mind for a while.

Take notes, peeps. This is the main reason why you should never introduce your girlfriend to your family, let alone take her to a family dinner.

“Aunt, Mary! This dinner is not about us,” I began, desperately trying to change the subject, “Tonight is about grandpa.”

I pointed at the old man who had been shockingly quiet the whole dinner, but what’s more surprising is that no one noticed him until I brought him up.

“Yes, Matt is right. Talk, grandpa. You’re the reason why we all canceled our plans to be here tonight,” Mike said, coming to my rescue.

“Yes,” Ben joined in, “What are your wishes for your 80th birthday, Grandpa? Spit it out.”

“So…I’d been thinking all day the most appropriate way to voice my wishes, and I have come to the conclusion that the only way to speak about them is to confess them directly without beating around the bush,” the old man finally spoke for the first time in the night.

“Well…,” Dave’s busty wife Vicky prompted. I had always wondered how she sits and lies carrying such big juicy melons at the front.

“Well, I want a birthday party on my 80th birthday,” Grandpa started saying, “And I want it to be my mock funeral.‘

Everyone went silent for a whole minute, looking at each other’s faces; the only sound in the room was me chewing on the carrot. Next to me, Rebecca let out a gasp.

After what seemed like forever, my mother broke the silence.

“That’s a horrible thing to say, Big C. Why would you want a fake funeral on your own birthday? I’ve never heard that in my whole life!” she exclaimed, “until now.. Chris, say something,” she urged our dad to protest the idea.

He went to open his mouth but before he could say anything, grandpa promptly objected, “okay, before you say anything… I just want you to know that it’s my last wish from all of you. It’s the last time I’m asking anything from you and I order you to not go against any of my wishes.”

That about did it.

That was all that grandpa had to say to stop everyone from going against his wishes, including my mom who always had her nose in everyone’s business.

“Forgive me pop, I understand that you have your wishes…but don’t you think it’s a little insensitive to arrange and wish for your own funeral?” my mother said, sounding hurt and looking down at her food, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

“I understand that daughter. But for the first and last time in my life, I just want to know what it feels like to have all my wishes fulfilled. I want to be present at my own funeral so i don’t get the feeling that I’m not missing out on anything when I’m gone. It’s just a fake funeral, I’ll still live after that,” he put in, hopefulness written all over his face, and there wasn’t even an ounce of insensitivity in that.

“Okay, Dad. You’ll have your mock funeral as your birthday party,” my uncle declared.

 

“Hold on,” Grandpa replied, “I’m not finished yet.”

This time, we did hold our breath and looked at each other across the table. Beside me, Rebecca whispered in my ear, “The next one won’t be too pretty.”

And she was right.

“A mock funeral is not all that I want for my 80th birthday,” Grandpa began, deliberately sipping on his wine, “I also want to…how do I put this appropriately…?” his eyes landed on me and Rebecca before continuing, “..have an orgy with five sweet 20 year old girls.”

This time, everyone choked on their food except for me. How do I put this appropriately…I low-key knew grandpa to be a pervert 80 year old who would secretly want to fuck 20 year old girls on his own funeral. But why did he look at me and Rebecca when he said that? That lewd freak wasn’t fantasizing my girlfriend in his orgy dream was he?

Suddenly, I felt a sense of nausea wash over me, and I started to think about leaving the dinner at once and taking Rebecca with me to my own place.

“What is orgy?” my innocent mom wishpered amidst the silence in the room.

“THAT IS A PERFECT BIRTHDAY WISH, GRANDPA!” Mike exclaimed. He earned some scolding from our dad and uncle, but that was all. Grandpa will have his wishes fulfilled, no matter what wish that is.

Why am I not surprised?

I turned to Rebecca, ready to drag her out of there before Grandpa could say anything more unholy.

But she was just sitting there, exchanging smiles with Ben, clearly enjoying the show.

“Babe,” she said, leaning in, “do you think he’s serious about the orgy? Because I’ve actually always been kind of curious about—”

I didn’t hear the rest. My brain just shut off.

Episode 2

I woke up to Rebecca sitting beside me in my childhood bedroom, scrolling through her phone. As soon as I opened my eyes, she greeted me with a loud squeak, immediately making me regret ever waking up.

My head started pounding like hell.

“How long was I gone?” I asked, struggling to get the words out.

“You passed out, babe! For like… 30 minutes? You missed the entire show!”

“Ugh.” So there was another  show after I passed out. That thought alone made me want to throw up my dinner.

“Let’s go home. I’ve had enough.” I took her hand and grabbed my phone, ready to storm out in front of the whole damn family.

“But where are we going?” she asked, clearly unwilling.

“Home,” I said, thinking I was being loud and clear.

“But this  is your home,” she objected.

“Nope. Not anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” She pulled her hand away and stood up, planting herself in front of me with her hands on her hips.

“What am I  talking about? What are you  talking about? Didn’t you hear anything that he said?”

“He who?”

“Oh, come on ! If you wanna stay here, fine. I’m leaving.”

I couldn’t understand how she could be so chill about all of this. Was her grandpa like that old pervert too? Or was she just so used to being around these motherfucking dudes that nothing shocked her anymore—like wild birthday orgy requests were just some everyday family bonding tradition?

“You’re overreacting, Matt. He’s such a sweet, loving grandpa… It’s actually pretty common for young people to enjoy sex parties, so why is it a problem if he  wants that? Just because he’s old? That doesn’t make any sense.”

I sighed. Impatience got the better of me. I was bewildered and utterly frustrated, to the point where I didn’t even know what I was doing here anymore, arguing with this girl like any of this was normal. It was like I didn’t even know her. I felt ashamed of myself for being a part of all this, for ever dating her, and especially for introducing her to my family.

“You know what?” I finally said, still barely holding it together. “We’re over.”

“What?! You can’t break up with me! What did I do?”

“Nothing. You’re a very loving and polite girlfriend,” I said, sarcasm thick in my throat. “And you don’t deserve me. You deserve someone better.  Like my grandpa.”

 

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