Words for My Enjoyment

I May Appear Dead, But I’m Not

September 27th, 2005

Look at me.

Are you looking at me? Laying there on the floor next to that sewing machine? No, I don’t know why I’m laying next to the sewing machine but can you see that my chest isn’t moving? No, not moving at all. Lean in closer. Put a mirror in front of my mouth to see if there’s any breath. There’s not? No breath, no chest movement, no nothing?

Voila! I am so good.

Pretending to be dead isn’t something you can just decide to do like you decide to take out the garbage or take up a hobby like knitting or old record cover collecting. Pretending to be dead is a skill that takes years of practice and decades to perfect if only for one very important aspect of the “I’m really dead, I swear” process.

Holding your breath.

If you cannot hold your breath for longer than forty-three seconds and you want to be one of the elite “I may appear dead, but I’m not” few, you may as well stop reading now. If you are one of those people who jump into a pool and scream for the surface as soon as you hit the pool’s bottom because you are panicked that you don’t have enough air — you will never ascend to the greatness that is being a dead-looking, floppy-like flailed body on the floor of a wet bathroom. You will never be able to, at the height of life, pretend to be dead.

But alas, if you are one of those people who often hold your breath for sport (like, uh, you know - people who hold their breath for sport), then you are past one of the biggest hurdles of being able to appear dead when you are most definitely not.

Often when I’m getting ready to appear dead (but not be) I like to find a situation that is convincing to put myself into. For example, I may flip my car over on the side of a lonely and dark highway road and then open the side door and set myself up so I’m just hanging from the seat belt and pouring halfway out of the open door. This is a good scenario. The other top “I may appear dead, but I’m not” scenarios include laying dead in a bathtub, near a browned and burnt electrical socket (brown crayons do wonders to simulate burned or ash-like areas), under the covers of your bed having passed on during the wee hours of the morning (which is really easy since you’re already lying in bed and you can just make it happen at any time) and the most difficult but really well-regarded “I may appear dead, but I’m not” moment is the “I’ve just parachuted out of a plane and the parachute didn’t open and now I’ve just fallen to my death and I landed in a tree and do you see me here hanging from the branch totally dead, not breathing?”

Situation is key. Find a situation that is elaborate but easy to coordinate. Often, you may not even have to hold your breath if the situation is larger than life. People will see you hanging from a tree, tied up and tangled in your parachute and not go to listen for your breath. People will spy your body, floating face down in an oil refinery’s sludge pool and not question whether or not you’re faking it. People will see you, half contorted in a hot dog factory’s meat grinder and call 911 right away! THEY. WILL. SIMPLY. ASSUME. YOU. ARE. DEAD.

Good job!

Once you’ve found the perfect situation, that’s when the holding your breath aspect of the ruse really comes into play. Sure, you’ve gotten your close friends and family to assume you’re not living but they’re probably going to call in the authorities to check you out. That means EMTs.

EMTs are the “I may appear dead, but I’m not” person’s worst enemy.

EMTs and their fancy technological devices, with their chest pads and IV’s and temperature takers and breath analyzers and doodads and hinkamaloogs — if anyone is going to prove that you’re actually alive when you’re trying not to be, it’s them. That’s why the holding your breath thing is key. If you’re able to hold your breath for more than two minutes (which is possible) you will slow your heart down to the point of them not being able to fully hear it upon a quick check — they will move onto the next tell-tale sign of being dead.

Your body temperature.

If you are one of those people who is always cold (yes, women, that means you) and your feet are always much colder than the rest of your body, and you have no problem holding your breath for longer than forty-three seconds — you are the perfect candidate for competing professionally in the amateur “I may appear dead, but I’m not” championships. For when the EMT’s can’t see that you’re breathing and they go to check your temperature and you have set your contorted body up so that your feet are the ones sticking out and the first place they’ll go — they will feel your feet and jump back in surprise.

“This woman’s feet are ice cold,” they’ll say. “Totally dead.”

Voila! You are so good.

There are, of course, other ways to convince EMTs and your friends and family that you are dead in addition to holding your breath and having really cold feet. There’s providing remnants of vomit on and around your mouth, a simulated broken spine (easy to simulate if you are a contortionist but you’ve never told anyone that you’re a contortionist), missing eyeballs (a classic trick of illusion), missing fingers (also a sleight of hand trick), arrow through the head (classic Steve Martin comedy routine), signs of acid reflux (easy to do with your doctor’s permission) and the all-time most awesome classic way of convincing someone you’re dead: a suicide note.

Here’s a sample one I’ve used in the past that got everyone fully convinced:

If you are reading this note you are probably, most likely, standing over my lifeless, cold, dead as a doorknob contorted and broken-backed body. I am dead. Dead dead dead dead dead. It’s okay. I meant for this to happen. Dead dead dead dead dead. No need to call the EMTs or 911 Emergency — they can’t do anything for my DEAD self now. No breath coming out of my mouth either, cause I’m DEAD DEAD DEAD. Yeah, I never should have tried to parachute. But at least I had one last fleeting moment of excitement. Before I died. Which I did. And I am. DEAD, that is. Dead dead dead dead dead.

Feel free to use that one or modify it for your own personal “I may appear dead, but I’m not” scenarios.

Sure — it may be a bit morbid and it may appear to be a little bit strange, but when you really sit down and think about it, pretending to be dead when you’re not is cheaper than taking up knitting, the collection of old-school album covers and even learning to ride horses.

And really, isn’t the cost element of your hobby what it really comes down to?

Cha-ching!

Posted under Death, I Could Be, Pretending. |