– Part One –
Joe Death, man I hated that name growing up. I used to get so much shit for it, but now I actually quite like it, very fitting don’t you think? Here is where I put on my human hat for just a moment, just to help in the telling of the story of my final days as a human, from a human perspective.
* * *
It was March the 18th 2012, and I had just woken up. I’d realised with a start that the buzzing sound I’d heard about an hour ago wasn’t my head, but in fact the alarm on my phone, and I was running late for my shift at Hell Pizza.
My girlfriend Crystal was still sleeping, fuck she looked beautiful, but stunk like an ashtray filled with Guinness, with a liberal splash of Tequila thrown in just for good measure. We had both been on the turps heavily on St. Paddies, and I was severely hung-over from the night before and running extremely late.
We’d just recently moved in to a rental of my parents, an old industrial warehouse that they had converted into a loft and lived in for a time. It was the one decent thing that they did for me – although I still had to pay full price, the fucking bastards. Most of my shit was still in boxes and the only staff shirt I had was still in the dryer, and the apron smelt like two day old pepperoni. I still needed to shave, and I couldn’t find one of my shoes.
After franticly running around the house collecting all the things I needed for work, finding my keys still in the door after twenty minutes of searching for them, it was time to jump into my shit-box of a car and drive quick as a bunny to work.
I locked up the house, and jumped in to my extremely awesome nanna-mobile – a gutless wonder in mustard yellow, such a chick magnet. I was afraid that the car wouldn’t start after a few miss-starts, but eventually the engine turned over and I was on my way, racing down the back streets of Forrest Hill.