freeze dried and turned into dust the environmentally conscious way.
I'd like to be experimented upon and brought back into a sort of existence as a vengeful automatonic lollypop lady. Or, to go a bit mad in my old age and become a quite skillful strangler, only for my hands to be donated to medicine and have them transplanted onto a perfectly innocent and handless man, a loner, preferably, who is possessed by my evil spirit, perhaps joins NSC in a murderous Meade's Ball babbling way, and then goes on the rampage with my deadly paws.
What now? Shouldn't we wait until we're dead, or at least feeling unwell?
Cremated and scattered on the Amex pitch.