The Negative Consequences of Bringing Your Wife Back From The Dead

In retrospect, it was a bad idea.  By it I mean bringing back my wife from the dead.  Had I simply thought the whole thing through beforehand, I could have avoided a few headaches.  A few of the things I hadn't thought of before I hired Lillie, the voodoo priestess, to zombify my dead wife:

  1. My wife would be dead.  Having sex with dead people is gross.
  2. Zombies smell bad.  So do the voodoo priestesses that bring them back from the dead.
  3. My wife might not actually want to come back.  (Hint: she didn't.)
  4. My wife might have actually gone to Hell (she wasn't as good of a person as I originally thought she was.  i.e. she cheated on me...a lot.) and they might not be so willing to let her go.  Along those same lines - she might have started dating a demon during her occupancy in Hell and he might not be very willing to let her go either.
  5. The check I would write the voodoo priestess was going to bounce (what kind of voodoo priestess takes checks anyway?)

As you can probably tell, none of the items on this list are the things that happy thoughts are made of.  In my own defense, I thought the zombification process would make her like she was before the accident - it didn't.  She looked -well- lets just say she had a closed casket funeral.

On our way home from the cemetary she didn't talk.  At first I though it might be because her face looked like Rocky Dennis on a bad day.  The smell was pretty unbearable, so I rolled down the windows despite the freezing weather outside.

"You look...good, Diane," I said unconvincingly.  I think that might be what set her off.

"What in the hell were you thinking?" she screamed,  "Look at me!  I look like Rocky Dennis on a bad day!"

"Heh!  I was just thinking that," I said nervously. 

"Why would you bring me back?  I was just getting used to being dead.  I definitely looked better than this.  A lot better than this, actually..."

"I missed you," I said patheticaly.

"Jesus, Frank, I was a horrible to you.  I cheated on you all of the time.  You are such an idiot.  The whole reason I was in a car accident is because I was going down on the driver.  The only reason I stayed with you is because I was too big of a coward to leave you."

"Oh," I replied.  I probably should have said something more, but "Oh" was all I could come up with on short notice.

"I just want to be dead," she said calmly, "and you screwed that up for me.  Can't we get the witch lady to reverse what she did?"

I was about to answer when a giant red monster with wings appeared in the middle of the road and I hit it with my car.

"What was that?" I said as I slammed my foot on the brake pedal.

"I think it was my boyfriend," my wife said.

 

The End

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