Mr. and Mrs. Balmont,
It is my solemn duty to inform you that your son, Jackson Pollock Balmont, First Pharaoh of the Balmont Dynasty, was laid to rest per his religious beliefs. I wanted to write this letter personally to bring you up to date on how this was carried out so that you can, hopefully, find peace in this difficult time.
His body was transported from the battlefield hospital to Ramstein Air Base. Blessing were made to Osiris in his honor and palm fronds were burned to ease the journey of his Ka into the trials of the Duat. One hundred golden jars were filled with honey from the pollen of Tigris lilies. Nine comely slaves were anointed in oils and festooned with golden jewelry that carry the Master Chief cartouche your son said was the symbol of the Balmont family. Animals were preserved in sarcophagi to represent the aspects of LCpl Balmont's Ba.
Clay vessels containing all of LCpl Balmont's favorite foods - pizza puffs, tortilla grumbos, saltykin woofs, sugar-curdled lemon garnets, asp tears - were built and decorated so that his favorite foods may sustain his Akh each day it returns to his body.
I include the preparation of your son's body only for completion's sake. If you wish, skip this paragraph. Your son's stomach was removed and placed into a canopic jar bearing the jackal- head of Duamutef. Neith will watch over him so that he might remain satiated. Your son's entrails were scooped from his cavity and fill a canopic jar bearing the falcon head so that Selket might watch over your son's later digestions. So that he might breathe in the trials beyond the black sky, LCpl Balmont's lungs were severed from his carcass and placed into a jar bearing the baboon head to honor Nepthys. Lastly, his liver was placed into a jar so that Isis might watch over it.
Our multi-denominational chaplain oversaw the construction of a gilded sarcophagus and funerary palanquin to bear LCpl Balmont to his final resting place in the Valley of the Kings. Working in tandem with the Army Corps of Engineers, a 777-tier pyramid was constructed at Khufu from stone quarried by workers at Tura and Aswan. The work drums did not cease beating for eight years as this edifice was constructed and day and night came the steady crack of the whip.
Your son, who believed himself descended from Osiris, was laid to rest Thursday with the full honors befitting a Pharaoh. One thousand doves were released. Chaplains of every god and goddess stood by to intone and intercede on behalf of your son in the weighing of his deeds. To represent his divine strength, seven slaves and seven oxen were slaughtered and entombed with him. To represent his divine mercy, seven slaves and seven oxen were spared. These were also entombed with him.
At last, the ceremony was completed, the acid and dart traps set to keep out grave robbers, and your son's tomb was sealed. A final curse was placed on all who would dare disturb his rest. I hope we have honored your son in the way he would have desired.
Also, I wanted to let you know that our ME has concluded his investigation into your son's death and as we feared it was caused by asphyxiation induced during a solitary sex act. We have filed it under non-battlefield accident for purposes of compensation, but I felt you should know the truth.
General John R. Allen
it's hard to shake the feeling that I've always got five stars in this Grand Theft Auto known as life.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.