I was walking through a museum the other day when I ran into a large man named Larry.
Larry was a corpse warmer, he would breathe onto a corpse to warm it up for museums
so as to give them a fresher look.
Larry told me how he first got into this peculiar job. It began with him digging up a
corpse and realizing that his breath gave a warm glow to it. After a while when larry
was fired for breathing on mannequins, he began to shop around to different museums and tell them about his unique skill.
After about 3 years of relentless begging, he finally had a breakthrough, "The Museum of History," a small history museum
hired him to warm three different bodies every morning, noon, and night.
Larry then began to tell me about his sudden rise to stardom amongst a certain type of
people - he refused to tell me what kind of people. After about 3 years he began to recieve a
large amount of fan mail, and even some from minor television celebrities. Eventually he began to appear on some national radio stations promoting his work.
Five years ago, Larry was nominated for a Nobel Prize, but lost, despite the fact that no one else was entered into his category.
Now larry just works at the same museum he started at, because of the crippling depression brought on by the loss.
People now ridicule him and throw dog bones at him telling him to "warm those up, fatty."
His greatest fear he told me is to die cold and alone... in a car wash.
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