“The dead lady grabbed the guy’s wrist... He let out this scream and bolted for the door. Forgot his car and ran all the way home.”

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"We close the casket, put it on the bier, and roll it out to the doors where the hearse is waiting; the family is getting cars in line for the procession, pallbearers load the casket into the hearse, and off we go to the church. We place it on a bier and put the funeral pall over the casket. I'm in the back, and we start pushing/rolling the casket to the altar.

Every little bloody nudge and one of like a zillion wind-up toys goes off. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG stops push again BANG BANG BANG BANG, stop push again, BANG BANG BANG, fuck it, let's just get this thing to the altar. People are turning their heads back in pews with horrified looks on their faces (remember, they went straight to the church and did not see the windup toy tributes being placed in the casket); everyone is staring at us while this banging is coming and being amplified by this metal (not wood) casket. In hindsight this was hilarious; at the time it was utterly horrifying.— u/anonymous

"Dad comes in, sees that no matter how we tried, we couldn’t make him look the same as before, and agrees that family shouldn’t see him this way. The day we delivered him to the funeral parlor, the family changed their mind and had an open casket anyway... We found out the rest of the family didn’t know he shot himself in the face. We ended up getting a letter of complaint from other members of the family for the open casket."

"He finds more, about a small biome's worth. He thought he was getting fucking pranked. The story pieces together as the clown had decided to end it with the xanax and booze; he gets a store-bought cake and eats it with everything on it, then chases down some dino-sponges just for the hell of it."

"He went to open the door and greeted the officer outside the door, but he was gone, one second there and then gone. He chalked it off as tiredness and continued on. He walked outside to head home, and he noticed the patrol car parked at the front. So he walked over and said, "Hey, why did you come outside all of a sudden? I thought you were keeping an eye on me?" and the guy said, "Sir, I've been outside all day long; was there someone else inside?" So they both ran inside to investigate who was standing there...but there was nobody in the hallway. They went to the cooler, and as they opened the cooler...they were shocked to see there was the upper half of the squad commander standing guard over the dead. From the waist up only, military pose, chin up. He lost his life leading the men and was guarding them afterwards. They said he disappeared slowly in front of their eyes.

He mentioned that every now and then, when they bring in victims of sudden death, he can feel the presence of someone in the room, and he believes it's the energy of the deceased trying to figure out what happened. He reads the report out loud, and that usually makes them leave. He also said he loves his job and these minor inconveniences don't bother him at all, as he considers himself a man of science and thinks there is an answer to this, but he sure doesn't have it."

"That’s not as bad as the time we had to remove another large gentleman from the top rack of the cooler (a two-person job). In the long-term storage, the bodies are kept in bags that are tied off at the ends. I was shorter than the person helping me, so when we lifted him off, I was on the end all the liquid in the bag rushed to (after being anatomically embalmed and stored for a long time... a lot of leakage happens and builds up in the bag). Anyway, guess whose side hadn’t been fully tied off. I got what we called ‘gooped,’ all down the front of me, and immediately took off to shower and change."

"The state would’ve paid. They did. They lied about the cremation to get money. Needless to say, he was taken care of; we actually put him in a nice casket and had a special ceremony after the desecration his body had to go through. We just felt bad."

"Like, thousands of them. And all of them in a large men's size 11. And actually, fairly neatly displayed. And all of them like... stripper stilettos. I can't imagine the amount of cash that went into this collection. It was bizarre. I mean, even if this guy WANTED to parade around his house in these shoes, the rest of the space was so crowded with junk, there would be no way to navigate anywhere."

He also had his teeth filed to points; he had eyebrow piercings that I had to cut the teeth of a comb and put into the piercing holes. When he died, he had his fingers making devil horns due to rigor mortis. I had to spend about 20 minutes bending his fingers flat. When we went to put the eye pads in, his right eye was missing. When we put him in the fridge overnight, his head was too far forward on the headrest, and his skullcap was pushed forward. Making a ridge on his forehead. So I had to basically punch this guy in the forehead until his skull popped back into place... Needless to say, this guy was a nightmare to work with. And to top it all off, it was my first autopsy body."

"Short time passed, and it was louder; at this point he was sure he wasn't just imagining things; he knew he heard the dead lady moan. His first thought was the mortician was fucking with him; he had been shaken all evening, and this asshole was pranking him. He marched over, yanked back the sheet covering the dead lady, expecting to find the mortician somewhere around her... The dead lady grabbed the guy's wrist... He let out this scream and bolted for the door. Forgot his car and ran all the way home.

Turns out, the old lady wasn't dead; the hospital got it wrong (hooray 1950s medicine). She had been in a coma or something, and they had been sure she had passed on earlier that morning. She woke up at the funeral home and scared the everloving hell out of the assistant. He quit the next day and said he would never set foot there ever again."