Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Orpheus, Returned

I thought you were dead.

“I am really thinking about calling my lawyers on you. I don’t appreciate you using my image in this manner.”

I warned you! I told you flat-out that Miles Davis–

“Who I married.”

–was going to shoot and kill you.

“I blame you.”

This wasn’t the worst relationship you’ve ever had.

“It was. Most of my relationships involve movie stars and anal. Very rarely before I became a character in your little cry for help was I pimped out, beaten, and murdered.”

Look on the bright side.

“What bright side!?”

Dude. #MeToo.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

You need to jump on this bandwagon, bro.

“I should come forward with my story about how a jazz legend who died in 1991 killed me?”

Domestic violence is so hot right now. You know how many offers Terry Crews is getting?

“That’s kinda dark, man.”

It was, wasn’t it?

“Usually, you voice those terrible thoughts through other people.”

I do. Let’s move on.

“Wanna talk toppermost?”


“Topper time?”

Absolutely not. I want to know how you came back from the dead.

“Oh, right. I forgot. It all blends together after being eaten by dinosaurs, inhabited by the spirit of 1993 Donald Trump, and blowdarted repeatedly by Vladimir Putin. Why exactly is it that I’m your Mr. Bill doll?”



I don’t recall anything in the continuity about you having any sort of resurrectory powers. How are you alive?

“A friend came and got me. Well, not a friend: my new manager.”

New manager?

“Best decision you ever made, Johnny.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Hey, Benj. You Ubering people back and forth from the afterlife now?

“Anything for Johnny.”

“What did I tell you?”

“Bro, we’re going places. I got big plans. John Mayer is not just a guitarist, a singer, a songwriter, a Furry prostitute.”

“That was just the one time.”

“John Mayer is a brand. It’s like: Coca-Cola, Apple, John Mayer. And that list is probably out of order; people are drinking way less soda lately. We’re gonna leverage you, buddy. What do you think of pecans?”

“They’re all right.”

“Could you love ’em for two million?”

“I could, yeah.”

“Okay, great. One condition: you have to legally change your name to Pecan John.”


“No problem, no problem. I got a ton of shit lined up. I’ve been on the phone all day. Nothing but work for you, buddy!”

“Uh-huh. Then, uh, why are you in a racesuit standing next to a racecar?”


“Stop that!”

“It’s for you! It’s a sponsorship deal!”

“A racing team wants to sponsor me?”

“Other way around. But your picture would be on the car!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine, fine, I got more. How do you feel about kittens?”

“Kittens are great.”

“How do you feel about tattooing your face on kittens?”

“Negatively. Very negatively.”

“Is that a pass, or a hard pass?”

“Hard. Very hard. Why would anyone want to do that, anyway?”

“They wouldn’t tell me.”

“Benjy, these are terrible deals. How about an upscale liquor?”

“Upskirt licker?”


“Sorry, I just got horny.”

“Benjy, concentrate.I need you to find some moneymaking opportunities for me that are not insane. Can you do that?”

“I don’t know. Can we?”

Oh, this totally smells like a new storyline.

“Awesome possum!”


1 Comment

  1. Luther Von Baconson

    November 28, 2017 at 11:33 am

    this one’s a Coffee Spit-taker

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