A series of medical breakthroughs causes the average longevity to be doubled, so an under-employed and starving alliance of undertakers, funeral directors, coffin and gravestone makers, and medical examiners begin a methodical genocide.
For once, the people were happy. Everyone was happy. The happiness wasn't any personal emotion, but rather, they were happy because that's how one is supposed to feel when something good happens. For the past month, every radio, television, and website in the world had been emanating the story: disease is cured! The scientists of the world had formed a procession larger than that of a Pope's funeral to see the results with their own eyes, in the tiny research center in indonesia where Dr. Mohammed Khirash had discovered the antibody. The average lifespan was nearly doubled, and everyone was succeeding, the Dow reached 20,000, business was up, tax revenues were up, and public morale was tempestuously high. Everyone but the undertakers.