"So when can I pick it up?"
I felt the last part of me go. Dying isn't nearly as negative of an experience as we've been led to believe. I felt myself being pulled upwards. Soon I was floating, up towards the pale fluorescent glow tubes ubiquitous in any large scale commercial retail setting, up towards a world where babies don't spit up and puppies don't have accidents on the floor. There's no food after you die. Which sucks if you appreciate a good ribeye the way I do, but the trade off for an existence minus any vomit or poop makes it worthwhile I think. I looked down and saw a little old grinning man. He was approaching the pharmacy......slowly......slowly....grinning and hobbling....waving a card as he inched towards the counter.
I continued upwards. Past the glow tubes and towards a rainbow. Not a rainbow that shines off a pot of gold, as there is no need for gold after you die. And not a CVS rainbow either. Witnessing the CVS rainbow was in and of itself cause for a couple pieces of me to die awhile back. My rainbow was beautiful. I was at peace.
"DRUGMONKEY LINE ONE!!!" snapped me out of it. It took me a second to get my bearings. The old man was in front of me now. Still grinning, and waving his card for Mucinex-D in front of my face. My keystone tech must have given me CPR. Bitch. I'll have my revenge, even though I'm sure she thought she was doing the right thing.
Or else I'm some sort of zombie now. Which would be kinda cool really. Does that mean I have to eat brains? I don't think I've ever had brains before. What about mad cow disease?
Wait. I'm already dead. I forgot. I guess I'll have to start worrying about the contents of my GI tract and disposing of them properly again. I wonder what poop made out of brains looks like?