Grandpa Mel. Big and dead. He required a custom built coffin to fit his towering, girthy carcass. During the potato famine they used to just break people's legs so they'd fit. That was a long time ago. The cost of such a large coffin adversely affected the ornate-ness of the elongated sarcophagus. Some distant relatives sitting nearby had commented they were "not that impressed".

He looked strange to the seven year old boy peering inside to "pay his respects". The boy didn't know his grandpa, due to the fractured relationship his father had with the deceased. It's true they had met once, but the boy was only months old and Grandpa Mel had spilled beer all over him. That doesn't count. 

His stone face, now covered in make-up, seemed to be holding back a yawn. The boy had never seen a dead man. The boy had also never put purple, berry flavored chewing gum -which he had hidden under his tongue from his parents- into a dead man's hair. He did that day. He made it to the doorway before anyone noticed.