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Author: Professor Crackpot
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William Richardson was the Gravedigger of the community cemetery located on the outskirts of a small town in Ohio. He had just finished his shift and was headed off home to get a good night's rest. The second he reached home he realized that he had left his shovel and all of his other equipment outside in the cemetery, and that the weather report had shown it would rain tomorrow morning. William was so tired, and said to himself "Ahh...I'll just get up early tomorrow and get it before the rain falls." He laid down in bed and immediately fell fast asleep.
After what seemed to be 5 hours, William awoke. He immediately remembered his equipment being left outside. He shoved on his boots and threw on his overcoat. It was still dark outside when he started up the car and pulled out of the garage. Driving through the fog, he made it to the cemetery gates. Slamming the door, he walked down to where he remembered he had left all of his tools. "What in god's name..." he muttered under his breath. Where his tools had been left, there was nothing. He glanced around and walked up and down the field. Finally he saw something. It was a dark figure with a hood on, looming over a grave. William made his way down the path to the man, and stopped when he realized something...the man was using William's shovel to dig a hole in the ground!
William thought to himself, "I best be on my way...it's probably a grave robber." William had heard that grave robbers could be extremely dangerous, and not to interfere with them. But something in William's head told him that this wasn't a grave robber and that he was up to something else. He bravely approached the hooded figure and asked him "Might I ask what you are doing here?"
The figure threw his head up and stared into William's eyes. The man was hidden behind the hood and William couldn't make out his face, and all he could tell was that the man behind the hood was so skinny that it looked as if his face were just a skull.
"Hello," the man said in a deep voice "I have been told to dig a grave for someone. It would be much appreciated if you could finish digging for me...I've been digging for what seems like forever."
Before William could question him, the man shoved the shovel into William's hands and walked off. William couldn't help it, but he started digging...as if something was making him.
"Besides," William thought, "If that had been a grave robber, he surely would have not just walked away. That would have been pointless." William dug for about 10 minutes and the hole was already about 10 feet deep. All of a sudden, William slipped on the mound of dirt he had discarded and fell into the hole...causing all of the dirt to come crashing down on him.
The next morning the gardeners came around planting flowers near all of the graves, when one of them stumbled upon a fresh one. "Hey guys!" he screamed, "Did you know that William passed away yesterday?"
"What are you talking about?" one of them exclaimed.
"Come look for yourself..."
There it was. A fresh gravestone with the following words carved into it
HERE LIES WILLIAM L. RICHARDSON
JUNE 18 1965 - OCTOBER 22, 2006
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