Flash Fiction Friday #22

I found this...well, I would call it a writer's break spot and thought I'd just do the first thing that popped into my head. You can find the rules at Purgatorian.blogspot.

This is probably going to be so bad, I'll leave it untitled.

The mourners arrived just in time dressed as clowns except for the girlfriend of the deceased Senator, a belly dancer known as Shimmy-Shimmy Simone. The Senator, a tall but rotund three hundred fifty pounds of rummy flesh (Bacardi and coke had been his lifelong companion) was laid out in an oversized coffin designed with a flat lid so that Shimmy-Shimmy Simone could do one final belly dance on top of the thing. It was the Senator's last stated wish, made to his only remaining family member, his son, who was a successful gay porno producer living among the artsy crowd of San Francisco.
And so the clowns cavorted, Shimmy-Shimmy Simone danced atop the coffin and then, as they lowered the huge coffin into the ground, it seemed to shake and someone in the crowd swore they heard a muffled, "I'll second that!" emit from the closed coffin. The preacher doing the final stuff (and already mortified by such shenanigans) had them stop lowering the coffin and he opened the lid. The Senator, still apparently very much dead, had a lecherous grin which wasn't there when the lid had first been closed, so the preacher dropped the lid shut on the ludicrous face and the coffin was lowered to the bottom of the grave and covered. The moral of this tale? Absolutely none.