Fire Breathing Dragon

(I work at a pet cremation place. I pick up a call.)

Caller: “Hello. Is this [Business Name]?”

Me: “Yes, it is. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Well, my son’s lizard just passed away. He’s quite upset over it and was wanting to get it cremated. Do you cremate bearded dragons?”

(I can hear her son crying in the background.)

Me: “Yes, we do. So long as the animal fits in the ovens, we’ll cremate them. I’m sorry about your son’s lizard. How old is he?”

Caller: “My son’s 15, but he’s autistic, and this lizard was his best friend.”

Me: “I’m very sorry for him.”

Caller: “Thank you. Would it be possible to bring the lizard in today?”

Me: “Yes, if you can bring it by about 2:00 pm.”

Boy: *overheard* “Mom, he’s breathing!”

Caller: *not listening to him* “That’s nice, honey.” *to me* “Should we bring the lizard in a box? We have him in a tissue box now.”

Boy: “See, mom?”

Caller: “Oh s***! F****** h***! He just thrust the lizard into my face and it’s moving! What the h*** did you do, [Boy’s Name]!?”

Boy: “I flipped him over to check his pulse and he started moving. He isn’t dead!”

(I can hear the boy laughing now, and talking to the lizard.)

Caller: “Apparently the lizard isn’t dead, and we won’t be bringing him in. Sorry for wasting your time. Have a good day.”

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