Thursday, August 4, 2011
The Undertaker may have you dying from laughter by the time it ends.
Review by Nancy
Peter Talbott buried his wife in LA following her death from cancer; he assumed that was it for married life and Terri, whom he loved more than anything. Imagine his surprise when he is handed his OWN obituary, along with that of his wife in Columbus, OH many months after the real event. Coincidence? Probably not.
Peter doesn’t mind so much being “dead” but by putting his wife’s name in the paper as well sets him off. Working for your brother-in-law has perks – like taking time off to drive from Waltham, Mass to Columbus to see what the hell is going on. He packs up his Bronco and off he goes to save the day.
Peter has opened up something best left closed, it seems. He has mob gunmen after him, employees of the funeral home, a clinic and other businesses after him and no, they don’t want to give him gift coupons. Turns out several people have died at the clinic, been entombed by the mortuary and had their monetary affairs dealt with by a Ralph Tinkerton, Esq. (aka “The Undertaker”).
Mob bodies, mob hitmen, a loony lady named Sandy, one hitman with good intentions (I think?) make up a tale that you just can’t pass up. The Undertaker may have you dying from laughter by the time it ends.