here, try this:

An elderly Ukrainian man lay dying in his bed. While
suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the
aroma of his favorite Ukrainian perogies with fried onions wafting
up the stairs.

He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from
the bed.

Gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled
downstairs.

Downstairs, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into
the kitchen, where if not for death's agony, he would have thought
himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper
on the kitchen table were hundreds of his favourite perogies.

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his
wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy
man?

He threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in
a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted, the wondrous taste of
the perogies was already in his mouth.

With a trembling hand he reached for a perogie at the edge
of the table, when suddenly he was smacked with a wooden spoon by
his wife.

"Fuck off." she said. "They're for the funeral."

__________________
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