A Stiff Opposition

Arthur surveyed Reginald. Reginald, in turn, surveyed the ceiling, which was commendable given his current state of being significantly less 'alive' and more 'room temperature sculpture.' 'Honestly, Reginald,' Arthur sighed, adjusting the dead man's tie, 'must you always be so dramatic? And on a Tuesday, no less.'

First, the garden. Arthur had always prided himself on his petunias, but Reginald's presence beneath them proved disastrous. Bartholomew, the neighbour's overly enthusiastic beagle, unearthed him with the gusto of a gold prospector, leaving Arthur to rebury Reginald while muttering about canine insensitivity. 'It's just a nap, boy! A really, really long nap!'

Next, the bonfire. Disguised as a 'community autumn cleanup,' the resulting aroma was less 'crisp leaves' and more 'forgotten sausage in a very old shoe.' Mrs. Henderson, from next door, sniffed. 'Having trouble with your compost, Arthur? Smells like regret and burnt hair.' Arthur merely nodded, fanning smoke with a garden gnome.

His final, desperate plan involved the local taxidermist, Gerald. A man of quiet eccentricities, Gerald squinted at Reginald's pallid face. 'A bold choice, sir. Though, if we're going for naturalism, I'd suggest a less rigor-mortised expression. Perhaps a surprised badger?' Arthur had to explain, with considerable effort, that Reginald wasn't meant for a diorama. 'Just... discreetly absent.' Gerald, misunderstanding entirely, began sketching a scene with Reginald holding a fishing rod, wrestling a rather large trout.

Defeated, Arthur eventually called the authorities. 'Yes, hello? I seem to have acquired a rather uncooperative guest,' he began, 'and he's really quite rude. Refuses to leave. Also, he's rather stiff.' When the officers arrived, Arthur simply gestured to Reginald on the sofa, covered by a tasteful throw. 'Honestly, the cheek of the man. Doesn't even offer to help with the washing up. And he's been quite dead for three days.' The lead officer blinked. 'Sir, where exactly did you *acquire* this guest?' Arthur shrugged. 'Oh, he just... fell out of a cupboard. Happens all the time, doesn't it?'