Blog Post Draft: “Dispatch 13-A: CrossFit, Kale, and Catastrophe”
- Andrew Toney
- Aug 21
- 5 min read
Written by Steve the Reaper, Department of Existential Extractions, Dead Inside Co.
06:02 AM — Dispatch Ruins My Morning (Again)
Pager shrieks. Coffee’s still brewing. I’m still dreaming about not existing. The screen flashes:
Perfect. An HOA tyrant with the personality of an unsalted rice cake.
06:47 AM — The Commute of Doom
Tyler lives in “Serenity Estates,” which is ironic because I’ve never encountered so much rage over shrub height regulations in my existence.
Security gate guard tries to stop me. I flash the scythe. Suddenly, I am the welcome committee.
07:12 AM — The Approach
Tyler’s mid-burpee on his HOA-approved driveway, shirtless, dripping smugness and kale-flavored sweat, blasting some “Alpha Grindset” playlist on Spotify.
He sees me and goes:
“Hey, bro, you should try CrossFit. You look like you need it.”
Buddy, I am the final rep. You’re about to meet the personal trainer of oblivion.
07:18 AM — The Reap
I give him the standard line: “Your time’s up.”He laughs.
“Nah, man, I can’t die yet. I’ve got a Spartan Race this weekend.”
Tyler. Pal. You’re about to enter the Eternal Rest Open.
One swing. Clean. Merciful. Over.
07:19 AM — The Argument
Tyler’s soul pops out — glowing, twitching, still somehow flexing — and immediately starts yelling.
“Whoa, WHOA! I wasn’t done carb cycling yet!”
Me: “You are permanently cycled.”
“My macros aren’t logged! I was in ketosis!”
Me: “Congrats, you’re in rigor mortis now.”
“Who’s gonna run the HOA?! The bylaws require a quorum!”
Me: “You’re the quorum, champ. Meeting adjourned.”
He tries to sprint back to his body, so I drag him into the Veil like a bouncer hauling out a drunk dude screaming about bottle service. He kicks. He flails. He yells about gluten-free afterlife options. I almost feed him to the Hellhounds just to shut him up.
08:04 AM — HOA Hell
While I’m bagging Tyler’s soul, three HOA board members storm over, furious that my hearse “clashes with the neighborhood’s color scheme.”
I handed them Tyler’s bagged soul and said, “New leadership’s inside.” Problem solved.
08:49 AM — Bureaucratic Purgatory
Back at the Office of the Dead, I find out HOA presidents trigger a Category 9 Bureaucratic Nightmare:
Form 13-K: Advanced Reap Authorization
Form 77-B: Neighborhood Dictator Transition
Form 404-KETO: Low-Carb Departures Compliance
Karen from Records then insists I need Tyler’s resting heart rate for “afterlife metadata.” Karen, if you’re reading this, stop inventing forms or I’ll invent one for you.
09:26 AM — Existential Rage, Caffeinated
I finally sit down, drowning in HOA sweat and kale despair, and Janet from Dispatch slides a new slip across my desk.
NEXT: Salamander.NOTE: “Try not to screw this one up, Steve.”
Janet, my love, you are one passive-aggressive sticky note away from joining my quota.
Post-Credit Scene
HR-Mandated Debrief Transcript: Reaper 667-B (“Steve”) & Soul #004239 (“Tyler J. Fitwell”)
HR Rep: “Steve, Tyler, thanks for joining us. Let’s resolve complaints before afterlife placement.”
Tyler’s Soul: “Yeah, hi, I’d like to file an appeal. Death was unprofessional. He didn’t even warm me up.”
Steve: “Tyler. You’re dead. No amount of foam rolling’s gonna fix that.”
Tyler’s Soul: “Do you even lift?”
Steve: “Yes. Souls. Eternity PR: infinity.”
Tyler’s Soul: “I could’ve gotten you into my CrossFit box. First class free.”
Steve: “Buddy, the only box you’re getting into is six feet under.”
HR Rep: “Steve, please refrain from threats.”
Steve: “Oh, I’m promising, not threatening.”
Tyler’s Soul: “Fine, but can you make sure my afterlife gym has kettlebells?”
Steve: “I’ll make sure it has one: chained to your ankle.”
Session terminated after Tyler attempted to sell Steve vegan protein powder.
Corporate Memo: Immediate Action Required
Subject: HOA Complaint Filed Against Department of Existential ExtractionsFrom: Corporate LegalTo: Steve, Reaper 667-B
“Dear Mr. Reaper, The Serenity Estates Homeowners’ Association has filed a formal complaint against the Office of the Dead for ‘removing their president without adequate notice or community vote.’ You are required to submit a written response justifying the extraction, including: A signed witness statement from Tyler’s soul HOA-approved landscaping plans Proof your hearse complies with the Earth-Tone Vehicle Code Failure to comply will result in mandatory Conflict Resolution Training with HR. Again.”
If I have to sit through another three-hour “Death Sensitivity Seminar” because of a CrossFit vegan with a clipboard fetish, I will personally file a reap request for the entire HOA.
Dead Inside Co.
Department of Existential Extractions"Because Someone Has to Do It™"
To: Serenity Estates Homeowners’ AssociationAttn: Acting President, Mrs. Linda CrenshawCC: Corporate Legal, Karen from Records, Janet from Dispatch (unfortunately)From: Steve, Reaper 667-BDate: Eternity +1Subject: Response to Formal Complaint — Extraction of Tyler J. Fitwell
Dear Mrs. Crenshaw & The Beige Cult Collective,
First, allow me to extend my deepest, hollowest condolences on the sudden and entirely scheduled passing of your HOA President, Mr. Tyler J. Fitwell. I understand this has left an unfillable void in your weekly power-tripping sessions over mailbox colors, driveway widths, and the tyrannical rule of beige vinyl siding.
However, the extraction of Mr. Fitwell was both:
Legally authorized per the End-of-Life Continuum Mandate (Form 000-DEAD).
Long overdue per the complaints lodged against Tyler by, well… everyone who ever met him.
Below, you will find my official responses to your “concerns”:
1. “Death failed to provide adequate notice before removing our President.”
Per Afterlife Statute 6, Section 66(b), I am under zero obligation to provide advance notice to mortals about their impending demise. Surprise is part of the charm.
Furthermore, I did provide a “warning” when I arrived on-site by saying:
“Time’s up, grab your soul, let’s go.”
If Mr. Fitwell chose to interpret this as an invitation to discuss his PRs and macros, that is a user error, not a process failure.
2. “The HOA was not consulted prior to Tyler’s departure.”
With respect, ma’am, your HOA bylaws stop at trash bin placement, not cosmic mortality scheduling. The Council of Fates outranks your board, your landscaping subcommittee, and whatever tyrannical covenant governs acceptable gnome heights in front lawns.
Please redirect further questions to Destiny, c/o The Universe. I hear she loves emails.
3. “The hearse parked on Tyler’s driveway was not earth-tone compliant.”
Correct. The company hearse is black, as per Eternal Vehicle Regulations. It will remain black.If Serenity Estates would like to issue a citation, please mail it to:
Dead Inside Co.Office of the Dead666 Bureaucracy Blvd.Purgatory, Eternal Void 00000
I assure you, we will frame it.
4. “We demand Tyler’s immediate return to fulfill his term as HOA President.”
No.
Respectfully, no.Legally, cosmically, biologically, and spiritually — still no.
If you’d like Tyler back, I can arrange a visitation, but you’ll need:
A Summoning Circle at least 12 feet wide
Six gallons of vegan bone broth
Three CrossFit coaches willing to scream “ONE MORE REP” into the void for eternity
Otherwise, elections will proceed as scheduled.
5. “Tyler’s death disrupted Serenity Estates’ community balance.”
Good.
Next Steps
As a courtesy, I’ve attached:
A copy of Form 404-KETO documenting Tyler’s low-carb departure.
A waiver releasing Dead Inside Co. from any HOA-assessed fines related to “unapproved mortality events.”
A discount code for bulk reaping services, in case you’d like me to “adjust” quorum requirements for future votes.
Use code “BEIGEAF” at checkout for 10% off.
Sincerely,SteveReaper 667-B, Department of Existential ExtractionsDead Inside Co.
"I didn’t make the rules. I just enforce the expiration dates."
Postscript
P.S. Please stop cc’ing Janet from Dispatch on your emails. Every time she forwards one to me with “FYI” in the subject line, another piece of my immortal soul dies — and trust me, there’s not much left.
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