the negotiation

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Lynn has long wanted me to perform the eulogy at her funeral. It comes up in our every conversation.

"So do you have any ideas for my eulogy?" she asked, stabbing at her chow mein.

"Mmmph," I replied.

"All I ask, John, is this: no profanity."

I swallowed my food. "None?"

"Not in the church I grew up in, no!"

I thought about this. "What about hell?"

"Now how is that word going to come up in my eulogy?"

I thought some more. "Well then what about Jesus Christ?"

"It depends on the context."

I chuckled. "Ya know, this is a good eulogy right here. Recalling this conversation."

She eyed me warily as she mentally went down her list of other potential eulogists. "JUST SAY SOMETHING NICE FOR SIXTY GODDAMNED SECONDS AND SIT DOWN!"