Funeral for a Friend -- Duel Intro

He was escorted into the small, square suite, resplendent with its two chairs of cherry and a boorish, square oak-colored table. A half a wall was given over to a giant mirror set directly into the wall--a one way mirror. Opposite the steel door was a tiny eight inch by sixteen inch window with bars across it; you couldn't see through it because of some white coating on it, but it let through an anorexic shaft of light that looked ready to molest the next person it touched with its pallid illumination. He was asked to sit, and moved across so that the little light could scratch away at his scalp.

"Okay, Mister Filsinger, do you know why we brought you here?"

"Yeah. I saw your buddy yesterday, and his buddy the day before, and his buddy the day before that. Do you want the short or the long, you know, 'cause I can do either."

The officer sighs, rubbing his forehead with exaggerated motions as though he already had the headache he knew was coming.

"The long version, if you'd please."

"So anyway, I'm at my apartment and I'm watching the game, right. There's this huge ass band playing across the street, souns like a funeral march, 'cause, you know, there was a funeral. Long line of people, all in black, following behind this casket. Probably cost more than I make in a year, I bet. I found out from a friend, 'cause I called him up as it was happening; he tells me that it's the old Don of some Mafia group died. Right, so I'm like, 'no ****! Really?' And 'course my buddy says yeah. And I'm joking with him, now, telling him how the people are crying and sobbin', even the guys! And they look like ****in' zombies! Zombies! Rocking back and forth on their feet."

"What's your friend's name?"

"Johnny."

"Johnny?"

"Oh, John Baker."

The officer gives him a look.

"And where was this funeral taking place?"

"Broker and Fifth. You know, the big cemetery there. Can't miss it. Got a big brass sign out front, says it's the best place to put your loved ones, you know, when they're dead."

The officer shows Mister Filsinger a photo. There's a graveyard with a brick road winding up to a gardeners shed in the middle built from more brick. There are a half dozen mausoleum styled grave sites, as well as tall and short tombstones. Some have statues, others don't, and a long string of plaques amid lusciously green grass. Trees are thrown up like warding hands around the pathways and around some of the mausoleum-styled grave sites.

"This it?"

"Yeah, yeah. Same place." "So, you were saying, about the people looking like zombies."

"Yeah, so the people were walking toward the grave, and they get there, start lowering it. I turn the game down, 'cause the priest there looks ****ing funny as hell. And then, I swear to you, he says, "Dead man, grave in, Amen." And then the people start crying more, and the, and one of the guys carrying breaks out laughing and loses his grip. They, they ****ing drop the casket! Drop it, and it slips into the grave, and people are shreiking when the thing breaks open and the Don's dead body spills out! There's this, this dead body, and it's flpping around! And the women are cryin' and the guys are tryin' to shoove it back in. And, and, you had to be there. God."

"Was there anything else? You said before you saw a man loitering before."

"Oh, yeah, him. So, there's this guy, standing at the edge of the funeral. He's doesn't really seem a part of it. He's pale, like a, like a vampire; dressed in this black suit, or maybe a dark blue. Anyway, he's standing there, and as the Don falls into the grave, face planting right out of his casket, he doesn't do nothing, at least, not yet, right? Not smiling, not even laughing. But I'm watching, and he seems all odd. Out of place, you know?"

"No, I don't know, Mister Filsinger."

"Anyway, this guy, after a bit of watching the screaming, he walks up through the crowd, grabs the priest. I sweat, threw him like a rag doll, right into a statue. Jumps into the grave, grabs the ol' Don, picks him up like he don't even weigh a thing! Everyone there is still screaming, and now some punk comes running at the guy, but the guy does some Star Wars thing, uses the Force, and sends buddy boy packing. Whoosh! Right over the hole in the dirt and into another statue. Then this freak pulls out a sword or something and starts hacking away at the Don! It was like watching some demented horror movie!"

"So, what happened next..."

"Well,..."