Afterlife

01 | The Wonderfully Weird Welcome

I just died.

I stare at my body and surroundings in an attempt to differentiate between reality and imagination. What the heck is going on? The question continues to haunt me as I take in where I am. Other than the spotlight that wraps me in light, the entire room is pitch black.

 The couch that I am sitting on seems to be creepily perfect. No clumped up fabric, or mysterious stains. Simply perfect. That is, if I ignore the fact that it's unbearably uncomfortable. Despite what the outer appearance may suggest, this couch is rock hard inside.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I make a move to get off of the couch. Only it feels like I'm glued down, like one of those toilet seat pranks. I try five more times before giving up, exhausted from the pushing. I lay back down in absolute boredom. It almost makes me laugh. I just died and now how do I feel? Bored.

A thought crosses my mind before quickly disappearing. What if I'm not dead? It sounds too absurd to believe! I couldn't have survived that. Right? Whispers fill the room, pulling me away from my thoughts.

"I told you we didn't have time for Taco Bell," a male voice hisses angrily.

"Well, we would have, if you hadn't been so busy fixing your hair," another voice retorts, this one also male.

"I'm sorry I try to look presentable for new guests," the first voice says, causing a loud gasp from the second. As my eyes adjust to the lighting, I make out dark curtains in front of me, halfway open, and behind it, a stage. My chair is where the audience would be.

"How dare you!" the second voice wails, appalled by the accusation. "I'll have you know I went to the spa yesterday!"

"Oh, poor ladies! No one could do anything to help those pores!" The first voice cries. 

I start to laugh, but let out a little grunt instead as I try to hold it in.

"Wait a sec," the second voice interrupts the first's hysterical laughter. "Is she already here?!" A head quickly pops out from the left side of the stage, mostly hidden by the darkness and long drapes. I can make out a thin face with a long nose, but nothing more than that.

"Oh goshness gracious, we have got to get this show on the road," the second voice exclaims, right before music begins to play. 

It's jazzy and upbeat until it stops when a spotlight lights up the stage. Two males stand underneath it, sporting the biggest smiles I've ever seen. They seem to be complete opposites.

The one who I saw earlier was thin and tall. His features are sharp and distinct, but in a frailer way, rather than the chiseled hunk look. His teeth are unbelievably white and his eyes are the same shade of caramel brown as his skin. For him, the long black hair seemed to work, distracting my eyes from his long neck. 

The other is the human version of a teapot. Like the teapot in the nursery rhyme. He's definitely short and stout, and seems  even smaller next to his tall companion. 

He's sweating under the stage lights, and his entire face is so red, I can't  tell how pale his actual skin is. The buttons on his shirt hold on for dear life as his belly attempts to breathe out. In contrast, the other man's shirt was far too big. 

"Welcome!" they sing in a surprisingly pleasant two part harmony. 

"Oh, you're dead now! You're dead now!" the tall man sings along to the music, as the smaller man echoes him. "It's not as bad as you'd thought it'd be. You get to live here! In this location-" The tall man gets cut off and the music stops.