Steve vs. Florida Man

Andrew Toney
Aug 28
3 min read

By: Steve, Dead Inside Co. — Head Reaper, Professional Coffee Victim

Dispatch from the Underworld

It was 2:37 AM when my haunted pager screamed like a banshee mid-exorcism. Dispatch flagged it as “high risk, low IQ” — which is reaper-speak for Florida Man. Yes, the Florida Man. You’ve seen the headlines:

“Florida Man Wrestles Alligator While Chugging Gasoline”“Florida Man Arrested After Throwing Iguanas at Taco Bell Staff”“Florida Man Builds Homemade Jetpack Out of Fireworks and Regret.”

That guy? That wasn’t three separate people. That was one walking, talking Darwin Award submission — and now, apparently, my problem.

I sighed, grabbed my scythe, and chugged the rest of my Death Before Decaf roast. If I was going to deal with this, I’d need caffeine, sarcasm, and maybe divine intervention.

Scene of the Incident

Coordinates took me to a swamp outside Daytona. The air was 100% humidity and 300% regret. Mosquitoes the size of drones swarmed around me like unpaid interns begging for validation.

And there he was.

Florida Man stood on a half-submerged jet ski, wearing nothing but American flag swim trunks and a cowboy hat. He was holding a half-empty bottle of Fireball whiskey in one hand, a live raccoon in the other, and he was screaming at the moon.

“IT’S MY RIGHT TO MARRY HER!” he yelled. To this day, I don’t know if he meant the raccoon or the moon. Both seemed equally horrified.

The Negotiation

Reaping usually follows a simple formula:

Appear.
Deliver the “it’s time” speech.
Harvest soul.
Go back to the office and fight with the haunted printer.

But Florida Man? No. Florida Man decided we were going to turn this into a Boss Battle.

“Listen,” I started, leaning on my scythe, “time’s up. Let’s make this painless.”

He grinned, pulled out a homemade crossbow, and shouted, “NOT TODAY, GRIM IKEA FURNITURE!” before launching an angry possum directly at my face.

Chaos Ensues

I dodged, obviously, but the raccoon took that as a declaration of war and leapt onto his head, hissing like a caffeinated blender. Meanwhile, Florida Man lost control of the jet ski, which somehow ignited — because apparently he had replaced the engine with fireworks and moonshine fumes.

Within seconds, he was on fire, screaming Bible verses and Jimmy Buffett lyrics in the same breath. I just stood there, sipping my coffee from my mug of eternal bitterness, watching Darwinism do my job for me.

The Reap

Eventually, he collapsed into the swamp, sizzling like bacon at a truck stop diner. His soul staggered out, still wearing the cowboy hat, still holding the raccoon — which, by the way, also died mid-chaos and is now apparently his spiritual emotional support animal.

“Was I… legendary?” he wheezed.

I sighed. “Buddy, they’ll be telling your stories on the internet for decades. Florida Man memes will outlive us all.”

And with that, I swung the scythe. One clean cut.

Back at Dead Inside Co.

Filed the paperwork under “Natural Selection — Assisted.” HR’s already mad because apparently, raccoon souls require a separate form. And of course, Tess from HR keeps asking if I “bonded emotionally” with Florida Man because she wants to run a wellness workshop on “healthy reaping boundaries.”

I haven’t answered her email. I’m busy scrubbing swamp water off my cloak and trying to get the smell of cheap whiskey and regret out of my scythe.

Final Thoughts

If there’s one lesson here, it’s this:Florida Man doesn’t die quietly.

He dies spectacularly, with fireworks, raccoons, and enough chaos energy to keep me in therapy for centuries. And as I sit here, nursing my seventh cup of coffee and filing another “Do Not Reap Near Gators” complaint form, I can’t help but wonder:

Next time dispatch says “Florida,” I’m calling in sick.

[CONFIDENTIAL REAPER DEBRIEF]

CLASSIFICATION: INTERNAL USE ONLY

Reaper: Steve

Case #: 473-B

Subject: Florida ManSummary:

Florida Man’s soul is currently too unstable for standard processing.
Preliminary testing shows it emits high levels of chaos energy.
Legal is drafting a containment agreement after Florida Man’s ghost attempted to hotwire an elevator in the afterlife.

Action Items: