A Fitting Replacement. (Any character that knew Dante.)

It was a typical lazy summer’s day. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the funeral director was sweating bullets inside of a windowless office. When he’d picked the room to be his office last winter it’d been the warmest room in the entire building. Sadly, he’d forgotten how deviously hot summers could get in this region, and having a windowless office in the middle of the building didn’t seem like such a good choice now.

He grabbed the coffee mug and took a sip of water. A few droplets of the clear liquid fell onto his white work shirt, but he didn’t mind. The poor man would’ve dumped the whole thing over his head if he weren’t completely sure that he’d need the rest of the water for drinking later. Then again, he could get his secretary to refill the mug, but then he’d be devoid of water until she returned.

“Excuse me,” a voice at the door said, drawing the balding man’s attention. The door was opened just enough for a man to stick his head through. He wore glasses over moss-colored eyes, and his blonde hair was arranged in such a way that his bangs were separated into two sections that looked like a cross between antennae and bunny ears. For some reason his bangs were blue. What struck the director as the most peculiar thing about this man was the small smile on his face. A bit jovial for a place like this, eh?

“What do you want?” the funeral director asked. He closed the file he’d been reading and leaned back in his chair. Had anybody died lately that he didn’t know about? No, that couldn’t be why this man was here. The director knew about every death in the town long before the deceased’s relatives could come to him to set up a funeral day.

The bespectacled man’s smile widened slightly and he stepped into the room. Now that the director could see the rest of the man’s body, things seemed to get even stranger. This visitor wore the simple dark suit and color of a priest. The funeral director was puzzled by this. He already had a priest on his payroll, the only one in town at that, for funerals. If this man were looking for a job he was out of luck.

“I heard that the priest who usually performs funeral services is, sadly, quite ill,” the blonde man said. He sat down in one of the two wooden chairs in front of the funeral director’s desk. “My name is Father Mercutio Rosaline, and I was wondering if you needed somebody to fill in for your usual priest until he is well again.”

“Father Jackson is sick?” the director asked. This was the first he was hearing of it.

“Yes, Director McReary. It seems that he’s been struck with something terrible. The doctors don’t know what it is, but it probably isn’t fatal,” Mercutio said. He pulled a red jawbreaker out of his pocket and unwrapped it. He balled the wrapper up and tossed it into the trash bin with one hand and held the treat between the middle finger and thumb of his other hand. “I’d just like to have a funeral for a recently deceased friend, free of charge. In exchange, I’ll perform the proper services for every funeral that your usual priest misses, free of charge.”

Director McReary took a sip of his water and thought it over for a moment. If Father Jackson really were sick he would’ve called in to tell him. Since Jackson hadn’t called, this Mercutio fellow had to be lying. Maybe he was just trying to play some kind of sick prank? He certainly didn’t look like a real priest to McReary!

“No,” McReary said. “I don’t know what kind of joke you’re playing, but you don’t look like a real priest to me, and Jackson would’ve called in sick if he truly were struck with some disease. Now please leave my office.”

Mercutio laughed and popped the red orb into his mouth. McReary felt his skin break out in goose bumps. The blonde priest reached into his pocket and pulled out a pink envelope. The edges of the envelope were decorated with painted flowers and bunnies, but what was inside was a bit darker than the envelope’s design.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to show these to the authorities, as well as your customers,” Mercutio said. He set the envelope on the director’s desk, maintaining the small smile he’d had ever since he entered the room, and pulled another jawbreaker out of his pocket. He popped this jawbreaker into his mouth without bothering to unwrap it, and spit the wrapper into the trash a second later.

McReary grabbed the envelope with shaky hands. Judging by Father Mercutio’s threat, he could already guess what was inside. Nonetheless, he needed to confirm his suspicions. He opened the envelope and pulled out several pictures that made his face pale considerably. In one, he was having sex with a blonde haired woman. In another, a little girl. There were several more, and they all had one thing in common: The sex was happening inside of open caskets.

“I doubt your customers would be pleased to know what kind of treatment you give cadavers, Mister McReary,” Mercutio said, taking the pictures out of the funeral director’s hands and placing them back into his pocket. “I trust you’ll let me give my old friend Dante a funeral, won’t you?”

McReary’s ghostly-white face nodded slowly. He had no idea how this priest had known, let alone gotten pictures, but he definitely couldn’t let those get out. Father Mercutio Rosaline smiled and patted the funeral director’s shoulder. “Good. Have a treat.”

He set a jawbreaker on the desk and left.

OOC: Dante sent out the invitations to his funeral before he killed himself, and personalized them all. So anybody that wants to join, send me a PM and I'll send you what your character's invitation reads.