Death, the Devil, and the Goldfish by Andrew Buckley Read Free Book Online

the world.
    By breakfast time, the media moguls everywhere made even larger fortunes spreading the information and searching for theories. Some said that it was a miracle, an act of God. A group of Australian scientists believed they had inadvertently found the cure for death while experimenting with a new nerve gas on a group of ducks. The group of nervous ducks disagreed and quacked accordingly.
    Religious fanatics around the world, believing that the Second Coming was upon them, went wild. Many of them formed study groups, others danced in the streets, ministers began scheduling church meetings, and somebody woke up the Pope.
    The Sons and Daughters of the Lemming Order, an over-dramatic and sensational religious cult, were about to achieve ultimate enlightenment by committing suicide. The plan was to race through the local coastal village shouting and screaming about their impending enlightenment and how very upset everyone else should be that they were not going to be achieving it, and then  run off the nearest extremely high cliff to certain death. They were all considerably shocked to find that ultimate enlightenment consisted of them lying on a bunch of sharp rocks protruding from the ocean below a very high cliff.
    A group of American scientists tried their very best to give some scientific explanation for the event but for the life of them couldn't think of anything.
    A Belgian media mogul named Boris dubbed the all-newly-common occurrence
The Lazarus Effect
.
    The real reason for the sudden amount of people waking up in large refrigerators or on their deathbeds was not anything to do with science, or nervous ducks, and had nothing do to, really, with a direct act of God. The real reason was due to an unusual happening in a small pub in Ireland the night before, involving a young man named Seth, a lot of fermented vegetable juice, a disgruntled lamppost, a talking cat, and the Angel of Death. Strange combinations produced strange results. That result, however, sent the entire world into a light chaos. As of around eleven the previous night, no one in the entire world had died.
    Sure, people were still passing away, but they would be gone for only a few minutes before coming back and declaring that there was really not much happening on the Other Side, and, despite a collection of shiny directional signs with lovely large neon arrows, they didn't know where to go. So everyone had been turning round and going back the way they had come.
    It would appear that Death just wasn't home anymore and if he was, he wasn't in any mood to be answering the door. Actually, that statement was truer than anyone actually knew. Death wasn't home.
    At the precise moment that the news went international, Death was sitting on a quiet beach in the Bahamas trying to decide what flavor of margarita he should try next. He already had a nice collection of little paper umbrellas sticking in the sand next to him and he was determined to build a bigger collection.
    After the incident at the pub, after shouting at the lamppost, after the mailbox proved unresponsive, Death didn't know where he should go. He wanted to quit but he just couldn't take that final step and actually do it.
    "Kiwi and orange please," said Death to the thong-clad waitress.
    The waitress turned and headed back to the bar. After a few steps, she forgot what the strange-looking gentleman in the dark robe had ordered. Then she thought it a bit peculiar that he wore a dark robe in such a hot climate. Then she totally forgot that she had just taken an order, that she had just talked to anyone, and began to wonder why she was thinking about dark robes in hot climates, and for absolutely no reason she could fathom, a dark tingly feeling ran down her spine. She walked over to another gentleman who wanted to order a drink and took his order instead.
    This had been happening to Death all day. The problem with being an angel is that, as a defense to the heavenly realm, anyone who saw