You can't spell funeral without fun! - part 6

Today was the day of the funeral. It was raining. We looked down at his lifeless body, the rear side impaled by his long, hard... tail. I began to realize how wet I was... I left my umbrella at home. My in-laws were a bit strange. His mother, PounPusah, identified herself as a witch specializing in love-related potions. His father simply called himself "The Sandman." After telling me how his profession entailed making nightly visited to little children's bedrooms, all three of my remaining foster children as well as both of our vampire babies (by the way, why didn't anybody fuckin tell me they'd be vampires?) instantly recognized as the man with an extremely large sack... of sand. As PounPusah whispered in my ear how wet she felt... from the rain, I wrung out the water in my shirt.

The 3 remaining foster children jumped onto their dead father, pleading that we don't bury him just yet. Unfortunately, I will have to buy extra stain remover, as the fluid was still squirting out of Dracula's...tooth and all over the children. The Sandman pulled out his giant sack... of sand and emptied it all over the children in an attempt to dry them off. Unfortunately it had a reverse-effect by making them all very tired and fall asleep.

After completing fully coating Dracula in a nice, thick-layer of dirt, the burial finally complete.