It was a sad day for the disciples. They had been so far apart all their lives. But here they were for the funeral of their compatriot, Doc Skuppernung. It seemed like the only reason they could get together was to say goodbye. Nothing could keep them together for more than two hours; they were too different, too much at odds. It wasn't the fact that all had a different story, but that they all had a different fashion trend.
In the coffin lay Skuppernung as half a cumquat dressed in a hot pink tuxedo. They knew this was the way he would have wanted it.
Guido was actually on time, despite the run in with Miss Vickers. On the plus side, most of the slug guts blew off his car on the way over. He parked the driver side towards a wall anyway. He was wearing his traditional bishop outfit, the one he had borrowed from a previous Pope and never returned.
Ed "The Pass" Murphy was standing in a complete football uniform from the Miami Dolphins; the pants were smeared with mud and one shin pad appeared to be cracked. The helmet was scuffed with the shade of green used only on the original Mercedes Benz. He kept trying to snag the incense ball so he could hike it to the Usher.
Stardust was resplendent in his namesake. Most of the other disciples avoided looking at him, since Stardust is more than a little transparent.
Alexander the Smelt swam around and around in a bowl three times too small, and with old water to boot (as far as he was concerned, it may as well have been from a boot.) His scales shined dully in iridescent monochrome, and periodically he squirted water into the coffin, hoping Skuppernung would sprout.
Stephen Lasky the roach tamer wore an Yves St. Laurent tuxedo inside out. His escort of roaches wore Barbie clothes, and danced the tango to the organ music.
Beepo was still in his coveralls, and his fingers were smeared with crushed neutrinos. He hadn't removed the noose.
Moses wore his trade mark robes and turban, and carried a bag of gravel while muttering about life before Messiahs, life in the days of God and Commandments.
No one knew where Mooen Lungsten Ichbaal III was.
George Burns wore a tuxedo and smoked a cigar, and tried to get Moses to be quiet. "Look, Mose, you never did this as a kid..."
Lisa's Infantile Fetish paraded about in a lampshade. This would have upset the others, if Lisa's Infantile Fetish was visible.
Bob's subconscious was very pretentious. It just sat in the corner naked and laughed hysterically.
Ok, it was inconsiderate too.
Bob's superego was as diabolical as most of Freud's theories. It had a complex about women eating bananas and couldn't calculate Pi. It's uncle, on the other hand, was an obese thing and always drank Kavash in the streets of Brooklyn. They were both dressed in camouflage hip-waders and T-shirts that said "I saved the California Condor from starvation by killing more people."
Silky the seal was clad in leather from neck to fin; he had actually been one of Skuppernung's favorite disciples. He would be giving the eulogy along with Judas.
The Dust-mote Man kept moving to the dustiest part of the room. He had a complex for pneumatic tubes and vacuums, and was terribly paranoid of people that inhaled heavily. Nobody knew what he was wearing underneath the sawdust, if anything. They weren't particularly interested, anyway.
Major Archie Loop wore his dress uniform, and had brought along a group of Namibian political prisoners to execute after the funeral.
Judas Iscariot MCMLXXIII wore his skin, which was more challenging for him than for most people. His jaw refused to stay straight, and his knees had an embarrassing habit of reversing their orientation. He covered himself with a body bag and wore sunglasses to hide the patchy complexion and stuffed belly he had.
The Moron Tabernacle Choir rose and started to chant "Open the Hell's Gates" from Bernherd and Young as the high priest entered the cockpit. He sat and started up the special effects machines and started to fill the room with mist from dry ice. Then he began the service. "We are gathered here today to... plant this dude. The Doctor was, let's face it, annoying. So let's not dwell on the morbid details, and remember the good things. Now, the Messiahs won't have to constantly bail him out. They can just crop him once a year."
The choir broke into a rousing chorus of "Help me, I'm falling" and then the disco lights hit the floor. There was dancing and mingling and then it stopped. Judas, now quite sloshed, got up to the front of the room and held up his seventh pitcher of Crown Royal. "He... was a prick..."
Bob's subconscious was holding himself and fell to the floor cackling. "Probably why he got all the women..."
Lisa's infantile fetish sniffled. Alexander the Smelt squirted water, and the roaches snuck under the vegetable and dug in. The high priest raised his hands. "Alright, enough idle celebration. Let's plant the man." A front end loader drove in, picked up the coffin, and dropped it in the garden outside. The disciples said their farewells and got as far away from each other as they could, leaving Stephen Lasky looking about puzzled.
"Has anybody seen my roaches?"
Suddenly, Stephen felt handcuffs against the side of his head. "Freeze, drug fiend!" screamed Deputy Lola `Shooting Pistols' Fitz.
"Wait, Officer, you don't understand, I'm looking for my roaches..."
"Yeah, yeah, tell it to the Judge," said Officer Rae Anne. "Hold these and get in the back of the bike."
