I'll probably invite a bunch of people I don't know, thirty at the least. I'll have bagpipes playing a haunting melody that keeps them in their seats and I'll have some mercenaries lined up with rifles at the ready to shoot... at the crowd. Should any survivors happen to make it and come to meet the lawyer who created my will, he'll state that they were poisoned by the reception I decided to have before coming to my funeral and that it is too late. Once they die from the poisoning my lawyer will return to my grave and dig me out of my coffin, opening the casket to find that...
I am still dead because I mispronounced one damn word during the ritual before all of this nonsense.
I am still dead because I mispronounced one damn word during the ritual before all of this nonsense.