A/N: Here is the next story. We are nearing the end of this story. Enjoy! :)
Raimundo was dead. There was nothing anybody could do about it, but to be honest, nobody really cared. He was a mean and ornery man. He was so ornery, he refused to stay dead.
Raimundo just dug himself up out of his grave and walked right home. His widow was shocked when he walked in the door. "What are you doing here? You are dead," she exclaimed. "What are you talking about? I ain't dead," he replied. "Well, you sure look dead," his widow cried.
Raimundo just walked right over to his favourite rocking chair and sat right down and started rocking... and that's where he stayed. He just sat in that chair day after day, night after night. Pretty soon he just shriveled up and all that was left of him was bones. Only a skeleton was left sitting in the rocking chair.
Raimundo's widow was beside herself. As long as her dead husband refused to be buried, the insurance wouldn't pay. Without the insurance money, she couldn't pay for the coffin. If she didn't pay for the coffin soon, the undertaker would take it back. If that happened, she'd NEVER get Raimundo where he belonged.
One afternoon, Raimundo's widow was sitting on the couch fretting about what to do when there was a knock at the door. When she answered the door, she saw the town's best musician, a fiddler. The fiddler had heard about Raimundo's death and thought he might court his widow and marry her himself.
The fiddler came in carrying his fiddle, which he carried with him at all times, and sat down on the couch. It was a bit uncomfortable with a skeleton watching, but they tried to have a conversation. Pretty soon Raimundo spoke up and said, "You two are boring me to tears. Fiddler play us a tune!" The fiddler was a bit surprised, but he never passed up a chance to play so he took out his fiddle and began a lively tune.
Raimundo's skeleton started taping his toe bones, and pretty soon he couldn't help himself. He rose out of that chair and started dancing around. He danced so hard that one of his finger bones flew right off his hand and onto the floor.
"Did you see that?" asked the fiddler. "He's dancing himself right to pieces."
"I certainly did see that," replied the widow. "There's only one thing to do. Play faster!"
The fiddler did just that, and the faster he played, the faster Raimundo began to dance. The faster Raimundo danced, the more bones started flying this way and that. Pretty soon, his bones were scattered all over the floor, and his big skull sat right there in the middle of them. The fiddler finally stopped playing, and the skeleton said "Oooooeeeee... that was some good fiddlin'."
That was the last straw for the fiddler. He grabbed his case and ran out the door. He did not come courting the widow ever again.
The widow got a bag and gathered all Raimundo's bones. She took them to his coffin and dumped them inside, spreading them around just in case he should get the idea to pull himself back together and come back again. She closed up the top and buried those bones. To this day, Raimundo has stayed where he belongs, but some nights, if you walk by the graveyard, you can hear those bones rattling and creaking and cracking.
A/N: Which stories do you like better? The scary ones or the funny ones? Leave a review! :)