Home > 2012-13 Season > They Have Made Me the First Human Being Able to Communicate from the Beyond

They Have Made Me the First Human Being Able to Communicate from the Beyond

By Paul Bearer
Former Lankville Wrestling Manager (Deceased)

File photo

Mankind has speculated for years about the ability of the deceased to speak to the living.  There have been a lot of theories but I need you to understand that these speculations have all ended at the chalk line of reality.  Until now.

When I died, I found myself transported to a room with a lot of long tables.  They said, “Sit down, sit down at one of those tables.”  So I did.  And I sat for awhile.

But then, I was called forward to an office.  And the guy said, “Paul, we’ve decided to make you the first human being able to communicate with the living.  You’ll have a little column with The Pondicherry Association News.  Write what you want, we don’t really care.  Just so’s people know that you’re dead and, yet, you’re still writing things.”

Then they sent me back to the long white tables with a pad of paper, a little box of pens and a pneumatic tube device.  “When you’re done with your column,” said an administrator who wandered by at one point, “just put it in the tube and send it on down.  Works just like those tubes at the bank back on earth.”

I looked up at him (I still had my makeup on and everything– I tried to wash it off but nothing happened) and said, “I never used those bank tubes.  I always went inside.”

The administrator just stared at me and moved his shoulders up once quickly.  “So what?  What do I care?  Tell them down there about it.  Not me.”

I struggled with the column for a couple of days.  What do you say to the people of earth when you’re dead?  So, I went back to the office.

“I don’t know what to write,” I confessed.  “Should I be all spooky and eerie?”

“Do what you want but it need not be dramatic,” said the man in the office.  He was dressed in white, thick robes.  “I’d just write about everyday stuff.  Sitting at the long tables, whatever.  Just as long as everybody down there understand that you’re writing stuff to them but you’re dead at the same time.”

“OK.”  The makeup was really starting to bother me now but it wouldn’t come off.  I was also really hot.  It’s about 90 degrees here.

“Can I have one of those robes?” I asked, as I was leaving.

He looked up.  “No way we have your size.  Leave the suit on.”

So, anyway, here’s my first column.  Just want to stress again:

I am dead.

Paul Bearer’s column will continue in future issues.

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