[ WP ] Its the year 2517 and you are a used grave salesman .

`` Step right up! Step right up!'' A semi-circle of onlookers formed around me. Some boiled in formal black suits and dark dresses, an indication that a loved one had recently passed. Many though wore shorts and vibrant tee shirts in an effort to stave off the heat but sweat poured down their foreheads and wet patches could be seen on their clothes. That was alright. It could be edited out for TV. 
 
 `` This grave belonged to a one Jacob Kretzer and before him, Anthony Paul,'' I said reading off my manifest. `` Mr. Paul was an inventor of some repute and held several patents. Maybe there's something good inside!'' I knew in fact that there was. The studio producer himself had come down last week to stash something in there. `` We'll start the bidding at five thousand dollars!'' 
 
 A young woman in a black dress and accompanied by two young children raised her hand tentatively only to burst into tears as the man next to her doubled her bid for the third time today to pick up his fifth burial plot. 
 
 `` Going once! Going twice! Sold to the man in Hawaiian shirt!'' 
 
 He came forward and claimed the deed to the plot and as a group we plodded on to the next grave site. 
 
 `` That woman is ratings gold,'' came the voice of the videographer next to me, his camera switched off as we all walked. `` Where did you find her?'' 
 
 I had n't met the man before. His predecessor had had a bit of a breakdown after eight years of filming and the studio had shipped this one out with two days notice to get this week's footage. 
 
 `` Her husband passed recently. Horrible mining accident. It's a wonder the body was even recovered. Bad luck for her though. She's going to have a hell of a time trying to get a good plot today.'' 
 
 `` She sure picked a day to come and bid. Did she know we were filming?'' the cameraman said, a frown appearing on his face. 
 
 `` I might have told her the it was the only day with appointment slots available,'' I replied grinning. `` Oh, do n't get your panties in a wad,'' I continued as the frown on his face deepened. `` I'm saving her a small plot in the back at a premium. A little cramped, but never used. Make sure you get some good close ups when we get there, mind you.'' 
 
 I'm man enough to admit I had never been the best grave salesman in the world but when that show Grave Wars premiered ten years ago, I'd turned out to be a natural TV personality. It'd only taken two years to get my own knockoff show and I'd been buying out graveyards here in the North East ever since. 
 
 We'd lost a couple people before we'd reached the next grave but that would be fine. All of the regulars and high-rollers were still here and this plot was bound to be a doozy. 
 
 `` Gather in folks. Gather in,'' I shouted. `` Here we have a grave of Mary Gillette, a 22nd century reporter and author of some renown. Wrote her own obituary before her death and, ladies and gentlemen, we have a original copy of that obituary right here! We have any collectors present today? Let's started the bidding at ten thousand dollars!'' 
 
 My spirits rose as the young mother frowned. She did n't even bother to bid on this one. Good thing too. We'd cleared twenty thousand dollars before hands had stopped going up. 
 
 The last four plots sold higher than expected and the mother had even managed to conjure up some joyful tears as I unveiled her plot after the crowd had left. Ca n't say I do n't have a generous bone in my body. I let her have it for just three thousand dollars. I'd make it back and more in royalties anyway. 
 
 I smiled as I drove home to settle in with a glass of scotch and watch last week's footage. It had been a good day.
