The dew was heavy on the freshly cut summer grass as Joe Vanderkoot, Waukesha County’s premier auctioneer pulled in the driveway. His crack team of setup people made him proud as prunes as he scanned the prepared property. Tables, benches and even wheelbarrows were loaded with the recently deceased’s armada of finished goods that came in all shapes and purposes. They even had order. Hand tools were in the garage, garden implements were laid out by the weedy vegetable plot that popped up without the owner’s help and domestic furnishings were in the freshly cleaned and scented house. Joe glanced at the clipboard that was handed to him by Eron, his wife. The lot numbers and minimum bids were approved by the dead man’s family. Joe surveyed the property and planned his sales route accordingly, making sure he ended up at Cousin Jason’s hamburger wagon parked next to brother Jake’s Snow Cone
trailer. Bidding can really burn some calories. Mr. Vandenkoot looked at his watch and knew that a volt of vultures would be arriving soon and as they started the bidding, they fittingly became a wake. As the caravans pulled in with every Ron, Rick and Larry in tow, the assessments started. There were platoons of people running around picking up plates, battalions browsing the beer can collection and armies of ordinary assholes annoying the pros. It was your typical day at an auction. Joe gathered the piranhas at the first table and they picked it clean in 5 minutes. The family watched in awe as the dollars rolled higher and grandpa’s junk flowed down the driveway. They took all the really good stuff last week. As the auction moved into the afternoon, the property echoed with screams and moans as the people won or lost their quarry. Somewhere in a grave close by, unknown to 99% of the people present there, grandpa’s body was slowly being devoured by a bevy of microbes at the same time all his worldly possessions were being picked apart by a committee of human vultures.