MORNING ASSEMBLY
 
This tall tale opens in a certain pub located somewhere in Söderort – the suburban region just outside the southern periphery of Stockholm City. It is early Saturday morning – the first Saturday morning in February, 2025. We find three men sitting at a table – exchanging small talk – Henke, Filip and Janne.
 
Henke:
 
“Percy sure will be missed. He was indeed a decent chap. And a competent dentist. But what a tragic death! Bitten by a spider on the lamb from its terrarium! It doesn´t happen every day that anyone in Sweden dies from a spider bite!”
 
“I´m a bit sorry I wasn´t permitted to be one of Percy´s pall bearers today. To pay him back for all the good work he did on my teeth.”
 
Filip:
 
“Well, Henke. You know how it is. It wasn´t your fault that you came down with that schizophrenia illness when you were young. But you simply must accept the facts of reality for what they are. Due to the aftereffects of that illness - you are nowadays a klutz, Henke!
 
“So – it would be a catastrophe for all the rest of us if your concentration failed you during the long walk with the casket to the cemetery. With the catastrophic result that you lost hold of the casket – for then your colleagues might not be able to hold on either! And the casket with Percy´s remains would fall to the ground. That would be absolutely scandalalous!”
 
Henke:
 
“Aw, heck! No one ever trusts me to do anything right!”
 
Janne:
 
“With good reason, Henke – with good reason. You should be aware of that yourself by now!”
 
The pub´s sole waiter, Mehmet turns up.
 
Mehmet:
 
“Well gentlemen! What do you wish to order?”
 
Henke:
 
“The usual.”
 
Filip:
 
“The usual.”
 
Janne:
 
“The usual.”
 
Mehmet:
 
“So be it. Coming right up, dear skitstövlar!”
 
Janne:
 
“Oh, Percy – dear fellow! I´m going to miss you. Imagine. Such a freakish way to die. Some klutz at the terrarium forgot to shut the lid on the plastic box the venomous spider was living in. And – voila! An innocent member of the public pays the price! Oh, why did it have to be you, Percy?
 
“Dirty, rotten capitalist system! I bet some cheapskate capitalist scrimped on the safety measures at the terrarium!”
 
Henke:
 
“Nonsense, Janne! The terrarium is owned and run by the Stockholm municipal government. It isn´t a private, capitalistic terrarium. So it´s the public sector that sucks.”
 
Janne:
 
“Aw. Don´t give me that Ayn Rand crap, Henke! I get so tired of it!”
 
Mehmet reappears with the beverages.
 
Mehmet:
 
“Guys. Guys. If you´re going to argue and make a ruckus – take it outside. Please!
 
“Anyways – here are the beverages you ordered!”
 
Mehmet hands Henke a large, steaming hot café latte. And he hands a large ice-cold Pepsi-Cola each to Filip and Janne.
 
Filip:
 
“It´s almost 10:25 now. The procession with the pall bearers and the casket should be setting off from the chapel real soon.”
 
Just then – by coincidence - a man all dressed in black barges into the pub. It´s none other than Bertil!
 
Bertil:
 
“Henke! We´ve changed our minds. Something has come up. We need you right now! Can you function as a pall bearer today? Please? You know that you´ll get paid a fee of 800 SEK for your trouble – provided you don´t mess things up, that is!
 
“You see, Henke, Gustaf came down with a strep throat last night? Gustaf! He´s in no condition to be one of us pall bearers today. So, we need you to pinch-hit for Gustaf, Henke. It´s an emergency!”
 
Gustaf was one of the merry band of Percy´s buddies – the ones who had been selected for the honour of being Percy´s pall bearers. The noble six who were to carry Percy to his final resting place in the cemetery – Skogskyrkogården. Henke was also one of the departed Percy´s roughly ten or so buddies. As was Filip and Janne.
 
Filip:
 
“Bertil. Maybe it would be a better idea if you recruited someone else to pinch-hit for Gustaf! You know – Henke tends to lose his concentration at just the wrong moments. Sorry, Henke – you know that it´s true!”
 
Bertil:
 
“The rest of us did in fact think of that consideration, Filip. But there´s no one else available today. Just me - and Lasse, Ibrahim, Axel and Otto! Georg isn´t available – because he´s in Ludvika, visiting his parents. And as for you, Filip – you know you wouldn´t be able to manage the load of a casket with a corpse in it – given your rheumatism. And as for you, Janne – you are just too tall to help carry the casket – since everyone else is at least seven or eight centimetres shorter than you.
 
“So – the rest of us. We put our heads together and we came to the unanimous conclusion that we would simply have to take a chance on Henke! Well, Henke. What do you say?”
 
Henke:
 
“I say: `Hell - yeah!´ My wife and I could really use 800 SEK right now! Our household budget is currently rather constrained, so to speak. I think I should follow you over to the chapel right away, Bertil!”
 
Bertil:
 
“Right! Then let´s go, Henke.”
 
Henke:
 
“Filip. Here´s my cash for the café latte I ordered. I trust you to pay it to Mehmet! OK, Bertil. I promise you and the rest of the gang that I won´t drop the casket! Word of honour.”
 
Filip: “I have a bad feeling about this, guys! But hey – it´s out of my hands.”
 
Janne (loudly as Henke is on his way out):
 
“Henke, boy. Try not to mess this up!”
 
Mehmet happens to walk by:
 
“Hey, Filip and Janne. Why did Henke just get up and leave, so suddenly? He didn´t drink even half of his mug of café latte. He´s always made a point of drinking up his latte to the last drop every time before? He just loves his café lattes! So - what gives?”
 
Filip:
 
“Something came up, Mehmet.”
 
Janne:
 
“It was an emergency, Mehmet!”
 
AN AWESOME RESPONSIBILITY
 
Bertil drives Henke to the chapel quickly in his car. Bertil and Henke bustle from the car into a dinky little stone structure next to the side of the chapel. The casket is resting on the floor in the centre of the structure. Four men dressed all in black are waiting when Bertil and Henke rush in. One of the men, Lasse – the leader – hands Henke a black suit with a grunt. Henke immediately understands and therefore promptly changes clothes. As soon as Henke has dressed himself in the black suit – and has, additionally, donned a pair of shiny black shoes – Lasse speaks to the now five fellow men, in addition to Henke, who are assembled around the casket.
 
Lasse:
 
“Men! You have all been selected to do our dear old friend and colleague Percy a last, final service – immediately before we put him in the place where his remains will rest for eternity. We must not, nay cannot, let Percy – and his widow Betty – down. It would be unthinkable if we failed to carry Percy´s remains to the cemetery without any mishaps. We must carry out this task to perfection! You hear me, Henke?”
 
Henke:
 
“Yes sir, Lasse! You can count on me! Surely you know that I haven´t had any relapses for the last 49 frigging years. That incident during the last ten days of December a little more than a month ago was a misunderstanding – I swear!”
 
Lasse (with a weary voice):
 
“Whatever you say, Henke. At any rate we don´t have any choice – since Gustaf was incapacitated at the last minute.”
 
There was a discrete knock on the door of the small structure. The pastor pokes his head in and speaks:
 
“Are you men ready? It´s time.”
 
The six men carefully lift the casket up on their shoulders and stiffly march out from the little structure as the solemn funeral music plays. Outside, a small crowd of mourners are assembled. Percy´s widow Betty utters a last farewell to her deceased husband.
 
Betty:
 
“Farewell, dear Percy. At least we send you off now to the hereafter with dignity now! Sniff, sniff!”
 
Lasse and Bertil are supporting the front of the casket. Ibrahim and Axel are supporting the casket in the middle. Otto and Henke are supporting the back end of the casket.
 
Otto (whispering):
 
“Hey, Henke! Try, at least, to march in step with the rest of us. Otherwise - the casket will rock and sway as we march. And we wouldn´t be respectful to Percy - if we took him to the cemetery all rocking and rolling – would we?”
 
Henke tries hard to adjust his steps. Which only makes things worse!
 
Lasse (from the front):
 
“Hey you guys back there! Rhythm, guys. Rhythm! Keep to the rhythm, för farao!”
 
The pall bearers are now walking/marching alongside the long amd winding road which leads northwards from the chapel in the direction of the cemetery - Skogskyrkogården. Fortunately – it is a sunny day. A little bit chilly – but not windy. The march to the cemetery would take our team of loyal pall bearers some forty minutes. But they are men - are they not? So, they should manage. Should manage!
 
The sextet trudges for five minutes in silence. Then Henke speaks up.
 
Henke:
 
“Hey everybody! Could we stop for just a second – so that I can sneeze – without the result being that we drop the casket? I really gotta sneeze right now. I´m sorry. Guys. But you know how it is – when you gotta, you gotta! And you just can´t help it. That confounded itch in the nostril, you know!”
 
Lasse:
 
“Oh! Alright. If Henke must sneeze – everybody come to a halt – right – now!”
 
The six pall bearers come to a halt at the side of the road – all at the same time. Henke stuffs the forefinger of his left hand under his nose – preparing for the sneeze. The five other pall bearers brace themselves.
 
Henke:
 
“Ker – ker – ker – choooo!
 
“OK, everybody. I think I´m done now. Shall we resume?”
 
The pall bearers resume their trudging.
 
After another five minutes a new problem turns up. A gaggle of ten year-old girls passes the pall bearers by on bicycles. And one of the girls – an especially naughty one - fires a water pistol at Henke – for some strange reason of her own. Maybe just because he looked like such a peculiar jerk? Or something like that?
 
Henke, yelling:
 
“Hey, you little b-tch! You´ll pay for that!”
 
Lasse:
 
“Henke! Henke! The casket! Whatever you do – don´t let go!”
 
Henke sputters with rage. But there is nothing he can do. Since he is a pall bearer at the time – he simply cannot chase that bad, bad girl! Especially since that bad girl has the good sense to make a fast getaway on her bicycle.
 
Lasse:
 
“Henke! Let it go. We cannot abandon our mission of gravity for the sake of chasing some naughty girl. And anyway. A dinky little squirt of water won´t totally ruin your suit. C´mon guys. Let´s concentrate on our job!”
 
The pall bearers begin trudging again – with Henke muttering angrily. Henke just mutters and mutters. After five minutes of muttering Henke gets fed up with the drudgery. So – he whispers sneakily to Otto – who is the other pall bearer at the back end of the casket.
 
Henke (whispering oh-so-sneakily):
 
“Hey, Otto! This sucks. Let´s add some levity to the proceedings, Otto. Wanna hear a funny joke?”
 
Otto:
 
“Not a good idea, Henke. Not a good idea.”
 
SOMETHING GOES WRONG
 
Henke:
 
“It goes like this. There was this guy who had a bald neighbour. And the guy wanted to tease his bald neighbour. So – he says to his bald neighbour across their fence `You know, dear neighbour. My wife´s bottom is just so silky smooth! The skin on her bottom feels just as smooth as the skin on your head!´”
 
“And, Otto. Can you guess the neighbour´s smartass comeback to that insult? He just strokes his head and answers `Why, so it does! So it does!´
 
“Haw, haw, haw! Wasn´t that funny, Otto?”
 
What happens? Wouldn´t you know it? Both Henke and Otto perceive the joke to be so funny that they lose their respective grips on the casket. And then the rest of the pall bearers aren´t strong enough to keep on holding the casket aloft. So - with a `dunshk´ the casket drops to the ground!
 
Lasse:
 
“What the heck! Who did that? Which skitstövel dropped the frigging casket?”
 
Otto:
 
“Henke and I both lost our respective grips on the casket, sir! Henke´s joke was so funny that we couldn´t help it!”
 
Lasse:
 
“`Henke´s´ joke? You cracked a joke, Henke? While we were carrying this casket? What kind of an idiot are you?”
 
Henke:
 
“I´m so sorry! I don´t know what came over me!”
 
Lasse:
 
“You never do know what comes over you? Do you?”
 
Henke:
 
“Oh! Hey everybody! Look! Look!”
 
Henke is pointing to the casket which is lying on the ground.
 
Lasse:
 
“Don´t you try to create a distraction, Henke! Right now - you are the problem!”
 
Henke:
 
“But! But! Lookie! Lookie!”
 
A groggy voice wafts over from where Henke is pointing:
 
“Aw! Where am I? What happened? I don´t feel so good! Oh – my head is aching!”
 
Lasse:
 
“Who´s that speaking?”
 
Otto:
 
“It´s – it´s Percy! Percy has come back from the dead!”
 
Henke:
 
“Don´t be superstitious, Otto! No one – but - no one, ever comes back from the dead! Resurrection doesn´t exist - says I!”
 
Otto:
 
“Sure, Henke! Resurrection doesn´t exist - says you! Yet – over there Percy is now alive! He´s talking! So, he sure does seem to have come back to life!”
 
Henke:
 
“An obvious question, Otto! How do you and we know – for sure – that Percy was dead to begin with?”
 
Otto: “
 
Oh my god, Henke - we were on our way to the burying of Percy for Chrissake!”
 
Henke:
 
“Well then - maybe we were on our way to burying Percy alive!”
 
Just then Henke feels a hand placed on his shoulder from behind. And – he hears a voice!
 
Percy:
 
“Are you serious, Henke? Was I on my way to being buried alive?”
 
Henke:
 
“I suspect that you were, Percy! We´re so, so sorry!
 
Bertil:
 
“You know everybody. It is in fact eminently possible that the coroner made a mistake. As you guys know – I am a medical doctor. And I distinctly remember reading in the literature, when I was young and in medical school, about rare cases in which victims of spider bites and other mishaps involving strong venoms have gone into a coma-like state. That means that the subject´s heartbeat goes down to virtually zero – and the subject´s breathing becomes so soft that it´s virtually undetectable. And the subject - he or she can in such rare cases be mistaken for dead!
 
Henke:
 
“Well then - I guess then that it was a real stroke of good luck then that we dropped the casket and woke you up, Percy!”
 
Percy:
 
“Sure was! Sure was! But - hey! Why did you drop the casket out here by the roadside? Were you guys drunk at my funeral or something like that?
 
“Well – never mind! It doesn´t matter. At least you guys acted in such a way that I was woken up before it was too late!
 
“Hey! I´m alive! I´m alive! It feels so good to be alive! What a relief!
 
“Tell you what – guys. Right now - I feel so relieved – and so happy - that I´m inclined to be generous to all six of you! You six swell guys all deserve a reward for not burying me alive!
 
“You know - I´ve saved up a tidy sum of money over the years from my dentistry practice. You six guys can share equally in 600.000 SEK of my net worth as a reward for saving my life by dint of your incompetence! So - 100.000 SEK for each of you! How does that sound?”
 
Lasse, Bertil, Ibrahim, Axel, Otto and Henke (all of them babbling at the same time):
 
“Oh! Hey! Yippee! Hallellujah! Wonderful! You´re the best, Percy! Thank you, Percy! Thank you! What a swell guy you are, Percy!”
 
SOMETHING GOES HORRIBLY WRONG!
 
Percy:
 
“By, the way, guys! Why did you guys drop my casket? There must have been a reason!”
 
Otto (sheepishly):
 
“Well, Percy. Since you ask. This jerk here – Henke over there, that is! He felt that carrying the casket was getting tedious. So – he got it into his head to crack a joke!
 
“And the joke was so funny that both Henke and I started laughing. And – we lost our concentration – and consequently we lost our grip on the casket! We´re awfully sorry – and ashamed of ourselves, Percy. Honest!”
 
Percy:
 
Hey – no need to hang your heads, Otto and Henke! That joke saved my life! Hey – Henke! How did the joke go?”
 
Henke:
 
“Oh, gee, Percy! It wasn´t really such a great joke!”
 
Percy:
 
“No! Really Henke! I would very much like to hear the joke which saved my life!”
 
Henke:
 
“Well, Percy. The joke honestly wasn´t such a big deal. I can tell you some better ones!”
 
Percy:
 
“No, Henke! Please! I really want to hear the joke that saved my life. And not some other one! C´mon Henke! Please! It´s the least you could do for 100.000 SEK!”
 
Henke:
 
“Oh well – alright Percy! I´ll try to make you happy! Since you are such a nice, generous guy!
 
“The joke went like this.
 
“`There´s this jerk – a jerk who has a neighbour. The neighbour happens to be bald. The jerk wants to rankle the neighbour – to screw with him just a little bit. So – he says to the neighbour `You know, dear neighbour – the skin on my wife´s bottom feels equally silky smooth as the skin on your head!´
 
“`Can you guess the neighbour´s smartass comeback? The neighbour just coolly and calmly strokes his head and says `Why, yes! So, it does! So, it does!´
 
“Isn´t that hilarious, Percy? Haw, haw, haw!”
 
All six pall bearers start laughing.
 
Henke:
 
“Hey! Why aren´t you laughing, Percy?”
 
Percy is not laughing at all. He is screwing up his eyes and getting all red in the face instead. And his hands are balled up into fists. It is evident that Percy is in the process of going apoplectic!
 
Percy:
 
“Oh! Why is this happening to me? Why does it always have to be the same? Whenever I start to feel happy – that `thing´ just has to come up once again! I don´t have any hair! I´m bald!
 
“Ever since that illness when I was a little boy. Everyone has made fun of my pate! `Percy the Cueball´ the other kids called me all the time during my childhood! When I was a teen-ager I couldn´t get any dates. Because the girls all swooned for those musical heroes - the Mop Tops! And me - I was like the polar opposite of the Fab Four! Me – no hair at all! All my life I have had my well of happiness poisoned by this baldness thing!
 
“And even now. Now that I ought to be celebrating the joke that saved my life. The joke in question just has to remind me of my handicap! Oh, cripey! I´ve had enough of this!
 
“I´m telling you guys – you pall bearers! I´ve changed my mind! You´re not going to get a single öre of my wealth as a reward for dropping my casket – and saving my life! Not – one – single – darn – öre! And that´s final!
 
“Just leave me alone while I get a lift home!”
 
Henke and the rest of the pall bearers don´t know what to say. None of them can think of any excuses or apologies which might stand a chance of changing Percy´s mind. For – they can in fact see – no doubt about it – that Percy is bald! Not a single, dinky, lonely little strand of hair on his head at all! Not one single strand.
 
Lasse:
 
“Well, guys. It seems that Henke always knows how to ruin a good thing. Now all that´s left for us to do is to walk back to the chapel with an empty casket and explain the fact that it isn´t six feet under in Skogskyrkogården – and that it doesn´t even contain a corpse any longer. I anticipate that it will be a hard slog to explain to everyone that Percy wasn´t dead in the first place!”
 
Henke:
 
“Lasse! That´s it! That´s it! Nobody – except for us six – knows that Percy isn´t dead! So – if Percy reneges on his promise to reward us for saving his life – then why should we persist in saving his life? Huh?
 
“You know guys – I for one am mighty pissed off by Percy´s miserliness – and duplicity! I say that we repay Percy! If he reneges on granting us our reward – then we renege on saving his life! Just give me a moment guys! I´m gonna fix this!”
 
The other five pall bearers see a certain look in Henke´s eyes – which makes them look away. Henke is wild-eyed – and he is holding an empty beer bottle in his right hand. He had apparently noticed the bottle lying discarded on the ground a few moments ago – and has, on an impulse, picked it up.
 
Picked it up for what purpose?
 
For the dastardly purpose to which he puts it in the next instant. Henke sneaks up behind Percy – who is standing at the roadside with his back towards the six pall bearers – trying to hitch a ride from passing motorists.
 
And Henke - he smashes the beer bottle against the back of Percy´s head! Percy collapses to the ground. Henke has knocked him unconscious!
 
Henke:
 
“OK guys. Help me load Percy´s body back into the casket. We´re going to bury him after all!”
 
Lasse, Bertil, Ibrahim, Axel and Otto (protesting and objecting all at once):
 
“You can´t be serious, Henke! Are you out of your mind, Henke? No way, Henke!”
 
Henke:
 
“You pussies! You pansies! Turning the other cheek to Percy´s betrayal! You guys should be ashamed of yourselves! Am I the only real man here? Huh? Am I?
 
“Are you blackguards going to take Percy´s vicious promise-breaking lying down? C´mon now! We can just stuff him back into the casket, put the lid back on, seal the lid – and bury Percy. After all – we were supposed to bury Percy. Remember guys?
 
“I say we just finish what we set off to do about twenty-five minutes ago - then each of us collects our 800 SEK fee back at the chapel – and no one will be the wiser! Easy peasy!”
 
ONE PROBLEM SOLVED
 
After Henke´s little speech follows a moment of silence. Then a cacophony of angry muttering.
 
Ibrahim:
 
“I never did like Percy all that much. He was such so selfish!”
 
Bertil:
 
“And he couldn´t be relied upon to return the stuff he borrowed. I never found out what happened to that bicycle he borrowed from me in the summer of 1997!”
 
Axel:
 
“And, I could swear that there had been something going on between Percy and my wife when I got back from that business trip to Japan fifteen years ago!”
 
Lasse:
 
“And that confounded cat of his was always fouling up my flower beds!”
 
Otto:
 
“And Percy botched the anaesthesia when he gave me that root canal five years ago. I´ll never forget the agony he put me through!”
 
Henke:
 
“Well then guys! Sounds like it´s settled. Just give me a hand with getting Percy´s body into the casket again!”
 
Said and done. They stuff Percy back into the casket.
 
Otto:
 
“Hey everyone! What if someone passed us by in a car and saw us?”
 
Henke:
 
“I don´t think anyone did!”
 
Lasse:
 
“You think that no one saw us? Well – that sure is reassuring – isn´t it?”
 
Ibrahim:
 
“Hey, Lasse. It stands to reason that if any motorists had driven by and seen us – then they would have stopped – and asked us what had happened – and if we needed any help.”
 
The six pall bearers mutter that Ibrahim´s words made eminent sense. So – without further ado the sextet picks up the casket and sets off again.
 
Destination – cemetery!
 
Twenty minutes later they arrive at the gravesite in Skogskyrkogården. The mourners are waiting for them. A van had transported them from the chapel to the cemetery faster than the pall bearers could walk. The mourners line the grave and look on as the six pall bearers respectfully lower the casket into the grave. Fortunately, neither the mourners nor the pastor who were present notice the troubled looks on the faces of the six pall bearers.
 
Then, out of the blue - Henke pipes up:
 
“Oh! Hey everybody! I´m afraid that – I – err – oh my, never mind. It was nothing. So sorry for making a distraction.”
 
Subsequently the pastor, the mourners and the all ex-pall bearers ride back to the chapel together in the van. Aside from Henke´s aborted little speech the burial had been uneventful.
 
When the party arrives at the chapel, the mourners disperse. The ex-pall bearers gather in the small stone structure next to the chapel. They wait for a minute until the pastor walks in and hands out to them 800 SEK each in cash. Said cash was, but of course, the payment for their valuable services.
 
As he hands Henke his 800 SEK share of the cash – the pastor remarks:
 
“Is there anything wrong, Henke? You don´t look happy at all for the 800 SEK? I thought that you had said that you and your dear wife could really use the money?”
 
Henke:
 
“Oh, pastor! Please don´t get me wrong. I am grateful for the 800 SEK. I really am! It´s more than I deserve!
 
“(Much more than I deserve.)” Henke adds under his breathe!
 
HENKE´S CONSCIENCE ACTS UP
 
A little while later – around 5:00 PM – Henke and the other five members of the “Gang of Six” saunter into The Pilot pub. Filip and Janne happen to be sitting at their usual table – equipped with their usual respective Pepsi-Colas.
 
They had not been sitting there the entire day. They had left around noon – after having finished their respective Pepsi-Colas. But late in the afternoon they found themselves without anything better to do than to go and hang out at the pub still again.
 
Henke (to Mehmet): “A large café latte, please!
 
The other members of the “Gang of Six” each ordered a draft beer.
 
Filip:
 
“How did the pall bearing go today, Henke? No mishaps, I hope? “
 
Henke:
 
“Everything did work out fine. In the end, Filip. In the end.”
 
Janne:
 
“So now Percy is enjoying his well-earned final rest. After a long career as a hard-working and honest dentist. No more worries and cares in the world. I almost envy Percy.”
 
Mehmet (to Henke):
 
“Good work, Henke! You proved yourself to be a true friend of Percy – when you volunteered to carry his body to its final resting place!”
 
Henke:
 
“Oh! Hey everybody. I´m not so sure that Percy is resting peacefully right now. Quite the opposite in fact! Oh. Me - I actually feel downright awful right now!”
 
Filip and Mehmet (together):
 
“What are you talking about, Henke? Is something wrong?”
 
Henke:
 
“I fear that something is terribly wrong right now, guys!”
 
Janne:
 
“Like what, Henke?”
 
Henke (stuttering):
 
“I – I don´t know how to tell you this, guys – the awful truth. But I am afraid that Percy was not in fact dead when we laid him to rest in his grave! I´m afraid that we – that we buried Percy alive! And maybe right now he has woken up and realizes the awful situation he is in! Down there in the coffin!
 
“Hey guys! I´ve got to rush back to the cemetery right now and save Percy. Before he runs out of air down there in his grave! Yes! Yes! I just have to do this!
 
“So - I´m off!
 
“Here´s for the café latte, Mehmet!”
 
Henke exits the café in a big hurry and sets off on foot in the direction of Skogskyrkogården – jogging by the side of the big road. Henke´s buddies didn´t have time to do anything or say anything to him before Henke was gone.
 
Henke jogs as briskly as he can. He had no way of knowing how long Percy´s supply of oxygen in the casket down there in the grave would suffice. Henke sure as heck did not wish to wind up arriving at the grave too late.
 
It is beginning to get dark when Henke finally reaches the entrance gate to Skogskyrkogården. The cemetery seems to be deserted. Well – after all. Which kind of normal folks would want to hang out in a cemetery of all places after dark?
 
Even though Skogskyrkogården is a big cemetery – with literally several thousand individual graves spread out over many acres – Henke remembers the path which he and the other pall bearers had followed in the morning of said Saturday. When they had “delivered” Percy to his (putative) final resting place.
 
But of course, the grave is still there – under the looming big oak tree. And since the entire cemetery seems to be deserted Henke gets right to work. This time around Henke has been equipped with enough presence of mind to bring a shovel with him. So that he does not need to dig up Percy´s casket with his bare hands!
 
Henke digs and digs. It is heavy work - and it does not go quickly. But after some two hours Henke´s shovel contacts something hard “down there”.
 
Henke (talking to himself):
 
“That must be Percy´s casket! OK, Percy. I promise you that I´m gonna get you out of there in a jiffy!”
 
Henke gets hard to work clearing away the dirt from around the casket.
 
But then some noises from the other side of some nearby bushes distract Henke.
 
Uffe:
 
“Hey, Bosse! Watch me knock over this gravestone! With just one hand! Do you think you´re strong enough to do that, Bosse? Huh! Urrrp!”
 
Bosse:
 
“Sure – Uffe! If only I pour another can of beer down my throat - I could not only knock the gravestone over – but smash it into little itsy-bitsy pieces!”
 
Henke (bellowing in fury):
 
“Hey you vandals! Can´t you let the deceased rest in peace! Scumbags! Swine! Vandalizing a cemetery of all things!”
 
Bosse:
 
“Hey, man! What the heck are you on about? What business do you yourself have here in the cemetery after dark? Huh? I think it might be worth my trouble to give you a working you over for your impertinence!”
 
Uffe:
 
“Hell yeah, Bosse! I´m thinking along the very same lines!”
 
Shortly, two sloppily dressed hooligans make their way through the bushes and confront Henke.
 
Henke brandishes his shovel and tries to intimidate the two vandals.
 
Henke:
 
“I´m not afraid of you two punks! I bet you my shovel gives me an edge over you. Even though I´m outnumbered!”
 
Bosse:
 
“Aw man! You must be a grave-robber! I´ve read about creeps like you in books from the 19th century. Your kind visited cemeteries in the middle of the night – and you dug up rotting corpses. And you sold the corpses to morally debauched medical institutions which needed corpses to be dissected in front of medical students. `Education´ they called it! Hah! Education my ass!
 
“Hey man! You are infinitely worse than me and my buddy here!”
 
Just then Henke hears a familiar voice behind him.
 
Percy:
 
“Oh crap! What an awful nightmare I just had. The worst nightmare I´ve ever had in my entire life! I imagined that I was buried alive! Oh, and the back of my head hurts like all heck!”
 
Bosse and Uffe (in terrified unison):
 
“Oh no! That must be the corpse which was contained in the grave this other creep was robbing! And the corpse is walking and talking! We´ve read about this kind of phenomenon!
 
“The corpse is undead! It must be a vampire who´s just been woken up from his `sleep´ - or whatever it is that vampires do when they´re not walking and talking and sucking blood from live ones – like us!
 
“Hey, Mr. Vampire! Please don´t take us! Take him instead! That skitstövel who dug you up! He deserves it much more than we do!”
 
With that the vandals take to their heels and disappear into the night.
 
Henke:
 
“Percy! Percy, dear chap! Are you alright? I´m so sorry for what I did. I must have been out of my mind! I buried you alive! Can you ever forgive me?”
 
Percy:
 
“Well, Henke. If you `must have been out of your mind´ when you did it – that explains it! Like everyone else among our acquaintances I do know that you have a history of mental health issues.
 
“But - Henke! Evidently you came back for me! You didn´t just leave me to my fate. I say that makes us even, mate.”
 
Henke:
 
“Oh! Thank you, Percy! Your act of forgiving me takes an awfully heavy burden off my shoulders. I almost committed a heinous murder on an impulse which was driven by petty spite.”
 
Percy:
 
“Well – I guess that I was petty also – earlier today – when I got so worked up over that rather pathetic joke of yours. And – I didn´t hesitate to break all six of you hard-working pall bearers´ hearts when I reneged on my promise to reward you for saving my life. And all because someone – namely you that is, Henke – just hurt my oh-so-fragile feelings.
 
“Henke – I think you and I should just let bygones be bygones. Let´s put the past behind us.
 
“But – Henke! We´re going to have some truly difficult explaining to do tomorrow.
 
“The fact that I´m not dead now won´t be so hard to explain. We can just point out the widely known medical fact that spider-bites are not always fatal – but do sometimes cause comas.
 
“However – in what way can we explain the circumstance that I was buried today – even though I wasn´t dead?”
 
Henke:
 
“I suppose it would be simplest to just say that someone made a mistake – that´s all.”
 
Percy:
 
“But how do we explain the fact that you came back and dug me up? It stands to reason you wouldn´t have done that unless you had somehow known that I was still alive after I had been buried!”
 
Henke:
 
“I can see that we do have a problem there, Percy!
 
“But what if we hypothesize that you were not dug up by me – but by some unidentified grave-robbers? And when the grave-robbers discovered, after digging you up, that you were alive - they perfectly naturally became so shocked and scared out of their wits that they fled from the scene of their crime?
 
“And – you know, Percy. When the staff of this cemetery arrives for work tomorrow morning - they surely will notice that some ne´er-do-wells visited this cemetery the evening before and perpetrated some serious mischief. You know the drill – knocked-over gravestones and empty beer cans littering the cemetery. So, you know – our phoney-baloney story might very well work! Maybe we can get away with it!”
 
Percy:
 
“Whatever you say, Henke! I´m in no condition to do any hard thinking right now. I´m just going to amble over to the road outside the cemetery and hitch a ride home. Thinking about how to explain things to the missus will have to wait!
 
“Well - I will have to pay a visit to the police station in Farsta before I go home to the missus – for the sake of explaining that I am not dead after all. I´ll give them that story about fortuitously being dug up by grave robbers. It will sure seem an unlikely story – but there will not be any evidence to the contrary whatsoever! So - it should work.”
 
With that Percy and Henke part ways. Both of them knowing full well that it will be one heck of a headache to explain this Saturday´s hectic goings-on to their respective wives!
 

THE END