Flies were flocking to the screens.
After two weeks, neighbors living in the sticks called police complaining of odor.
The police responded and found an elderly female woman decomposing in a closed closet. It was August in Iowa, hot and humid. Soaponfication was occuring. Floors were slimy, slippery. Stench.
The coroner was called . He was an Irish MD, cigar, could have passed for a NY ward director.
He ordered the crime photographer to go in and take pictures.
The photographer balked ," I I Can't do it " He was a sophomore in journalism, seeking experience in crime photography. The coroner threw him in, slammed the door and ordered,"Take ALL pictures". The he called the Oathout F H for body bag pickup to the morgue for autopsy.
I was in class so I missed this one, but our head embalmer took the call. When he neared the address, he told us later--
I KNEW IT WAS GOING TO BE A BAD ONE, THE POLICE WERE VOMITING IN THE STREETS !!!!!!
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"The draw"-- Two poodles named Sheasar and Squidget engulfed a bag (Twas full) of Boston Baked Beans. Oh dogs stomach, all full of contention. Thy by-product born free of an end. In time, basement walls turn a slimy green as a face. Butt for the wafting of Shandy Cits and Poston Buke, no sign of life remains. Oh hope, a remedial short straw hath appeared. ugh, ugh the long straw goeth to the straw manager. Pah-poo take two.
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