Not Dead Yet (XXX parody)

"If you got it, flaunt it. Especially when flaunting it can make you a millionaire." (I'm looking at my laptop screen to make it look like I'm doing a video conference with someone, so the coffee customers won't think I'm crazy.)

"Being a porn star made me realize my full potential as a person; getting me out of the narrow world of stuck-up New York actors. I guess that's why I got beamed into your life. You also needed a spark to wake you up, and get you off the bad life-path you were on. In order to help your mind, I had to help your body."

"The future looks so much brighter now. Thank you so much for helping me find my soulmate."

"No problem. I hope you and Edward will live a long and happy life."

"I wish I could invite you to our wedding, whenever that happens."

"Nah, you wouldn't want that. I usually got drunk at weddings and flirted with the groomsmen. I even fucked a groom one time in a church bathroom, just an hour before he said 'I do' to his blushing bride."

"God damn," I laugh incredulously. "Well, weddings are really stressful, so I guess he was just blowing off steam."

"I'm sure he blew off a lot more steam after the wedding, with lots of other bimbos."

I sigh wearily, and so does Marilyn X. Monroe.

"Well, Marilyn . . . are you ready for me to hit the send button?"

"Not yet, Miss Serrano. Before you whisk me away to the afterlife, I want to give you one last piece of helpful advice."

"Sure thing, Miss Rubado. I'm all ears."

Marilyn clears her throat, teases her golden curls, and grins slyly. "Climate change is a myth, so don't let your 'woke' boyfriend take your hot showers away."

"I sure won't, Marilyn X. I'll still be taking long hot showers on The Day After Tomorrow."

Marilyn takes three steps toward the entrance of Fatty Arbuckle's Java Joint, then she turns around and strikes a marine color guard pose, giving me a proper salute. "It's been an honor to serve you, Captain Serrano."

"Honorable indeed, Private Monroe."

"Live long and prosper."

"Right back at ya, babe."

Marilyn takes a deep breath, and shoots me a big smile. "Beam me up, Scotty."

I reluctantly hit the send button on the email containing her obituary. The document disappears into cyberspace, and Marilyn X. Monroe disappears into a different kind of ethereal realm. Forever.

I sit there in awkward sadness for a minute, waiting for the next ghost to show up. That's how this fucked-up cosmic game works: another ghosts follows hot on the heels of the previous one, like a comedic reimagining of Quantum Leap (without the time-travelling part.)

Five more minutes pass, but still no new ghosts. I get up and step outside, looking up and down Orange Grove Boulevard. All I see are perfectly normal Pasadenans, going about their daily business. Not a hint of ghostliness among them. Oh my god, could this be . . .

I go back into the coffee joint and sit down in front of my laptop, waiting five more awkward minutes, with visions of Marilyn still dancing in my head. How can I ever forget that goofy blonde vixen?

Holy shit, this is it! The end of the ghost game. I found my true destiny with Edward, so there's no more need for supernatural shenanigans. I'm free! I bolt out of my chair in sheer delight, dancing and cheering like some crazy chick in an 80's rom-com.

"Free at last! Free at last! Great God Almighty, I am free at last!"

All the other customers look at this thirty-something Puerto Rican lady like she's gone bananas. I clear my throat and try to regain my dignity.

"I should probably switch to decaf."