"Who's playing 'A Good Day' on the grave?"
"The years slipped through your fingers, and now you're cold."
"I still remember that year when we were all alive and well."
"Now you're in the grave, I burn paper money but you miss it."
The tune "Coffin Breaks" echoed serenely.
Whitaker Dog stood on the expansive cemetery plains, a cigar in his mouth, sunglasses on his face.
His already dark skin seemed to have gotten even darker from the sun recently.
"Boss, your family tomb needs renewal."
As Whitaker Dog stood among the graves, holding a big cell phone, he mumbled, "A total of 30 million US Dollars."
"Brother, my family's fallen on hard times, we're out of money."
A voice of helplessness came from the phone.
"What?" Whitaker Dog was initially impatient but then softened his tone: "You're a big customer with us, our Funeral Alliance treats you like God!"
"Has anyone in your family died recently?"
