King Jonas Arthur Cloud Tip, 37

King Jonas Arthur "Ping Pong" Cloud Tip, 37, from Ethete swam to the Heavens of the Riverton Aquatic Center. The always mischievous King Tip lifted a pack of cigarettes (he didn't even smoke) from the Pitstop, was chased by the clerk, slipped on some black ice and collided into a speeding school bus. He was dead on impact.

He was preceded in death by his two cousins, J.P. Brown and Romulus; he is survived by his faithful beagles, Ping and Pong.

A savant and wealthy, his still worked as a paper boy. Delivering papers in the pre-dawn hours allowed him time to think of new ideas for his novels. On the other side of the daylight hours, he enjoyed hanging out in the evening smoking pinters and getting drunk on Wild Turkey with his cousins. Considered by many to be absolutely brilliant, his time spent writing was fruitless. He never finished a novel.

His characters will miss never having been fully developed.

Mrs. Rumor Hassit, Karmic Death

Rumor Hassit, 50, Gossipville, spoken ill of to death. She is survived by her killers; relatives of the people damaged by Mrs. Hassit's words. They comprised a mob who tossed her onto the third rail of the Wonderland MBTA Station just outside of Boston in the city of Revere.

She would be considered by many to be a woman of few hobbies, but Mrs. Hassit was busy from eyes opened until eyes shut firing up the rumor mill of all who crossed her path. She was treacherously relentless in her pursuit of pain.

Her epitaph:

Never Met a Sole Unworthy of her
Sullen Tones of Sloppy Slander
Those Bastards Deserved
Every Damn Word

She will be missed by no man.

Lacey Jane Glenn, 95, BINGO no more

Lacey Jane Glenn, 95, taken by The One on the way to Bingo. She is preceded in death by her loving husband of 35 years, Zeke Glenn, her loving and only son, a beautiful belly-dancing daughter and survived by hundreds of students who idolized her.

Lacey's lengthy tour on earth was fruitful. Born and raised in Saratoga Wyoming, Lacey's favorite place to go, meditate and gain strength from the hectic pace of life was Saratoga's famous Hobo Hot Pool. In her younger and more adventurous days, she'd meet friends there in the middle of the night after sneaking out of her home and indulge in the hot pool au naturel. On one of these naughty escapades, she met an equally adventurous boy. She managed to steal his shorts and only would give them back if he asked her to the movies. That boy was Zeke. The two dated for many years and eventually made a family.

Lacey's safe persona was a preschool teacher. Her playful ways won over the children immediately but she could not suppress her provocative and sometimes exhibitionist side. It manifested in her belly dancing part-time job. "It was never for the money," she giggled as she provided her life story several years ago to a local reporter.

As she aged and suffered through the deaths of those close to her, at the age of 75, started a nudist commune. It was wildly successful but kept surprisingly secret in Carbon County. There she taught belly dancing, set up rodeo exhibitions, wheelchair racing, drank JD black and was conspicuously lucky at Bingo. She occasionally performed stand up comedy for the commune; she was especially proud of her body, which was lovely into her elder years. Her surviving commune buddies vehemently attested to this fact (standing behind the days headlines as they spoke, offering a salute - of sorts).

Nothing will be quite the same without her.

Gummy, 56. From Handshoe Holler, Dead

Mr. Frank "Gummy" Pearl, 56, was pushed (without much resistance) into the fiery pits of hell.

Mr. Pearl was from the curvey, slippery slopes of the Appalachian Holler by the name of Handshoe. Population 200 (minus 1). The Holler residents were well known for their remarkable ability to sustain themselves and their way of life by simply hunting for selling ginseng root. When the economy of 2008 snapped and the dollar's value decimated, commodities like ginseng became valuable to barter. "Don't need no 'bility to reed 'n rite to get the root," said a close friend of the Pearl family.

Illiteracy did, however, lead to his death. Upon picking up a textbook out of curiosity, he received deep papercuts; the wounds became infected. After weeks of infection, even amputation was deemed too little, too late to stop the spread of the disease. Although no one would publicly claim his body, the folk of Handshoe, it was rumored, stole him from the morgue in the middle of the night in order to bury him next to a fertile area of ginseng root. They felt his body would transform itself into more root in order to sustain the culture.

A hard worker all his life, Gummy did occasionally have his vices. He did enjoy an opportunity to peek at the ladies who showered in the primitive showers of the village. No one really knows if he was being salacious or curious given his questionable sense of hygiene. He only regrets being caught during these efforts.

The gals will still miss him.

Mrs. Brady S. Lane, will be 97 when dead in 3005

Mrs. Brandy S. Lane, 97, Riverton, Wyoming, taken by the Angels (reluctantly). Mrs. Lane was walking out of her doublewide at the B&K Mobile Home Park to get the morning paper, she was ambushed and mauled by a pack of rabid wiener dogs on March 22, 3005.

Mrs. Lane is survived in death by 3 daughters and a son. Ginger Snap Bach, Mary Lilly Bach, Daisy Dill Bach and Timothy Don Bach. She is also survived by her loving husband Timothy Bach old, he is the caretaker for their 27 wiener dogs, Maddie, Elly, Pickle, Blueberry, Orange, Apple, Carrot, Ann, Abby, Pinky, Purple, Ethan, Chubaca, Elmo, Cookie, Roger, Billy, Fefe, Foofoo, LooLoo, LaLa, Buggy, Patty, Flower, Money, Pookie, and Fluffy.

After several years of college, Brandy Lane became a nurse for the largest children's hospital in the country, the Texas Children's Hospital. She worked as a nurse until her 80th bitchday. She then retired, some say due to early onset dementia, and became obsessed with the care of wiener dogs. She loved to frolic with her little friends, to knit them mittens (108 of them), join them in the tv room to watch old black and white movies (101 Dalmations), and bake them cookies.

She was best known for her work in the children's hosptal; in her local community she was reknown for 27 wiener dogs. She was once interviewed in a segment of 60 minutes by Leslie Stall. She was the only one laughing when Cookie peed on Ms. Stall's shoes during the interview.

She shared her long, long, very long life with her husband Tim Bach and her many damn dogs. She was a very happy and wacky old woman. She would look out her window and scare all the children that walked by screaming at them. She didn't have many friends after she hit the age of 90 because she scared the living shit out of everyone. How her husband could stand her, we have no damn idea. She was cherished by her canine buddies, her children, and her husband, as
freaskishly as it may sound.

That old hag will be missed.

Craig Koger, 92, rests with the Indian Lords

Craig "Little Big Man" Koger, 92, went to the sky with the Indian Lords.

He is preceded in death by his beautiful 94 year old girlfriend Jessica, his loving family; mother Echo 128 years old, father John 128 years old, sister Kendra 89 years old, and brother Thain 86 years old. Of course there was also the two nurses (who will remain anonymous).

Mr. Koger only worked one year out of his life as a slot machine player when he was 24. His hometown newspaper, the weekly Platte County Record Times claimed he inherited his fortune of 10 million dollars and retired from the casino.

He bought the Playboy Mansion with the extra coin and he settled in the mansion. Soon thereafter, he developed an insatiable appetite for Viagra; it was offered throughout the mansion like dinner mints at a restaurant. His "very loving" self finally met his match. Thoroughly enjoying an evening with his two nubile nurses, most of the blood in his body flowed purposefully to the body part demanding it the most - leaving him with barely a trickle to maintain the rest of his frail frame. He passed smiling. Had he known how to count beyond ménage à trois, he would've gone in an even more grand fashion.

It was his only regret.

The Savior, 90

Lord Theodore Huntsman "The Savior" Haworth, 90, taken by angels; he was slayed in battle by the Great Beast Dantaevil. Preceded in death by Hank Haworth, Helen McCrory and survived by not one single individual.

He loved video games, reading, acting, D&D, watching anime and D&D. He once rescued thousands from a gateway opened to oblivion that released millions of blood thirsty Daedra.

Varkun, High King of Arcadia, once believed dead smiled upon finding out of his death.

Mrs. Hicks, 98, died of sadness

Mrs. Hicks and family

Mrs. Jessica Ann Hicks, preceded in death by her husband of 45 years withered of inconsolable sorrow at the age of 98. She went to join her other friends who had already proceeded "down there;" they decided Hell is where they where going because of stuff they had done. "It's going to be one big party," Mrs. Hicks would've rejoiced. She is survived by five grandchildren and two great grandchildren.

Living close to Evanston, Wyoming, she and her husband went to Bear River State Park often to enjoy kayaking in their custom-built duo kayak.

An accountant by day in Evanston at Cameron & Associates, she was a great worker, but, more importantly, a great friend, fun and partied tirelessly in her younger days. She was a model mother and loving grandmother.

In her later, wiser years, she loved to travel and do all the crazy things younger people do. Her most recent romps took her cliff diving in Cancun. Her favorite thing to do was go sky diving because she could see everything and it was always so different. She was mindful in many aspects of her life.

On her deathbed, she admitted her greatest regret is she would not witness watching her grandchildren mature to the charitable adults she knew they would be.

They will miss her most.

King Robert, 101, no parachute

The King

King Robert, after a mere 101 years of noble life, was escorted by the Angels to a quiet place on this day. He lived a mostly reserved day-to-day in the heart of Wyoming, but lusted for the thrills in life. One manifestation of this lust took his life when he suffered fatal blunt force trauma to the skull after a faulty base-jumping run.

King Robert was an avid and experienced parachutist, but due to his old age and frail body, he could't reach the rip-cord to open his parachute, let alone have enough strength to do so if he could reach it. Jumping for thousands of spectators, there were no screams heard by the audience from Robert as he valiantly face-planted into the dirt. His fake teeth flew out of his mouth due to the excessive wind he experienced plunging towards the ground at nearly 65 miles per hour.

He is preceded in death by his ex-wife (the shock of her death practically terminating King Robert) and the rest of his immediate and extended family, and way too many friends. He outlived every damn one of them.

Robert occupied a vast array of occupations during his supreme reign on earth. He served in the U.S. Army as an infantry sniper and subsequently as an explosives specialist surviving three combat tours, was a correctional officer, and for the later part of his life, was a psychologist.

His friends are looking forward to his arrival.

Monsieur Carpberd, 26, Impaled

Monsieur Stoney H. "Sronez" Carpberd, 26 went straight to hell on All Hallowed Eve in the year 2006. Hailed from Houston, Texas, M. Carpberd died in a horrific and most improbable manner. Dusk of that evening found Sronez, his friends called him, engaged in a round of combat at a local construction site. While running to shoot one of his fellow sweaty, muscular enemies, he ran and stumbled into a pile of new, but hardening concrete. Unfortunately, erected from the hardening concrete was a massive, steel rod of rebar. His uzi airsoft immediately spewed all over the site as he was tragically impaled. He was awake for a brief but painful period in which all that could be heard was his screams for help; his friends just watching him lay on the ground, the rebar fixed to his head. Police were called to the scene, but it was too late, he choked on his blood. His spirit still lays there where his body was impaled.

M. Carpberd liked girls and guys. His friends admired his guns (his airsoft guns). He loved the simple things in life, walks on beaches, his relationships, his affinity for both sexes, even his emotional self he allowed to cry occasionally during sunsets. He regrets not having the time to explore and enjoy his relationships (and improving his grammar skills).

He will be missed by all.

Kitten Killer, 666

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Originally uploaded by johannes asgeir

King "The Kitten Killer" Caines' disgustingly long life ended today at 666. The King was legendary around El Dorado. Rumored to have had 12 wives and countless children, all preceding him in death, he was plagued his entire life by a personal insecurity resulting from his barely visible bit of manhood.

In order to seek relief from this insecurity, he engaged in many hobbies: gambling, bballing, XBOX (he especially fancied) and watching too much television. He was somewhat obsessed with Craig's Mom, but she wouldn't have him (for obvious reasons).

Poor grammar, poor spelling and micro-manhood notwithstanding, he may be missed.

Jerry the Racer, 27, Dead

Mr. Jerry T. "42" Racecar drove one too many miles last night. Friends gathered by the I-40/S.R. 32 split where he met death. His Coddington-modified exclusive Mustang tragically flipped 20 times sliding off an interstate during a blizzard. The gang of friends wore a slight grin for the memory of their friend. They knew he liked to mix drink and his driving, but they also knew he was born to drive and knew he would never die old. "42 lived the way he wanted. Now he died the way he wanted" said a close friend of the family with a look as if he had known what was going to happen that sad day.

Friends and family agreed he was an amazing guy. He had a good balance. 'Could sit for hours tending his low 'n slow 'q, pick up a shotgun occasionally and down a couple squirrels while on his farm; stay mellow a stretch of 12 hours at a time. But, when he got the itch, he up and proceeded to his prized Coddington mod ... he was another man.

42's consolation? He'll be meeting up with his (racing) manager and his trophy wife, country singer and model, Betsy Clements. She will now be standing by her man, his Comfort and the Lord.

Later 42.

Russell Rogers, 22, Gloriously to Hell

Mr. Russell "Willis" Rogers from scenic Riverton, Wyoming was killed today, November 14, 2008. Willis, his friends called him, was quiet. The way Willis liked it.

Ironically, Mr. Rogers, had a lifelong fascination with the culture and fighting tactics of the Ninja. Friends recounted his horrific death that occurred this morning. They were reading the footage from Russ' webcam that caught the entire event. Russ had been playing WoW at a friend's loft most of last night and fell asleep on the couch; he never made it to bed. He was awaken by some noises at the window. Within seconds, he was engaged in an attack with a gang of ninja warriors (visiting Riverton for a conference). In an unprecedented move, one of the clan broke from the traditional fighting techniques and tossed a martini (dry) at Russ and chased it with a small torch. He was immediately engulfed in flames. All a blaze, Russ dropped and rolled in an attempt to put himself out. It was then he slid out of the window of his friend's loft and went plummeting to his death. Had his friend's loft not been on the 40th floor, Russ may have lived since his initial impact was on a pile of trash in a passing sanitation truck. However, if he was alive on impact, all probability of his survival was destroyed as the truck's impacter was activated upon contact. Organs that had been ejected from his body were scattered about the street. The outlines of the organs made by CSI staff amused small children. Their laughter would've made Russ smile.

Riverton will be less without him.

Michelle, 293, Strong Charitable Woman of the Ages

Michelle at the age of approximately 85

Michelle, 293 glorious years of age was finally taken by the angels in the evening, Thursday, November 13 the year 2008 ad.

Michelle was unfortunately eaten by a pack of rabid dingos while traveling in the uninhabited desert of southern Austraillia. The specific cause of death is still unknown, but irrelevant. Her remains were converted to ash before sunset of the same day as the attack.

She is preceded in death by four dingos who fell in the battle, her great grandmother who trained her in the art of the sword fighting, two uncles and three cats.

For fourteen years, Michelle worked as a guide leading unintelligent people through the wilderness. She once fought off wild boars to save a group of elderly people who were backpacking in India. Another time, her bravery was demonstrated when she fought a crocodile to save a small child who had come too close and wanted to look at its teeth. Michelle worked in numerous occupations throughout her 293 years. Perhaps the most memorable was her stint as a pirate where she pillaged and plundered as she sailed around the Pacific.

She was passionate about kayaking, climbing, backpacking, rock climbing, and wind surfing.

At her ceremony, her family proudly spoke of her successful journey to the center of the earth which was completed at the grand old age of 104; at 28, she replicated the journey of Bilbo Baggins and fought off numerous orcs and trolls.

A tad of guilt will follow her since she forgot to give her dog its supper a day prior to her death. Perhaps it was him who told the dingos to go on the rampage; no one will never know.

William "BJ" Young, 23 took own precious life

William "BJ" Young found solace when he "jumped the fence" Tuesday November 11, leaving the world too soon. Only 23, most recently residing in Tennessee, sadly, he took his own life. "BJ was loved by his friends and anyone who came to in for a drink," said Jack McGlinty, owner of The Black Horse Pub & Brewery in Knoxville when asked about his former bartender. "He didn't just do his job, he listened to the customers as if they were kin. He had his problems with drugs and liked his drink a bit too much, but he was special - and anyone coming to the bar knew it" Jack continued welling up a bit at times. William Young, baptised in the Sacred Heart Parish, Effingham, IL; he will likely do a brief stint in purgatory before joining the Lord.

Fare thee well Mr. Young.