“I know she would be happy,” her self-professed best friend sobbed. “It was her favorite day of the year.”
“It was the weirdest thing,” said an anonymous bystander. “I mean, who drives a bike into a parked bus? That…just doesn’t happen.”
Robynn died of severe blood loss from pinched fingers.
“She had poor circulation,” a co-worker confirmed. “She bruised like a peach. I hit her on the arm once with a piece of paper and she showed me this purple welt half an hour later. Just weird.”
Robynn wanted to live to be 111 years old.
“Because Bilbo Baggins was 111 at the start of The Fellowship of the Ring,” another friend said. “She talked about it all the time. She was weird like that.”
“Oh, she was weird,” her older niece confirmed. “And kinda mean. Not all the time, but sometimes, if I wanted something and she’d say ‘I’m not made of money.’ But she didn’t yell at me a lot, and she listened most of the time. Especially when I said something she wasn’t supposed to hear. She laughed really loud at the dumbest stuff. It was totally embarrassing to go to theaters with her. But my friends liked her, so I guess she was okay. I mean, I love her and everything. Are you writing this down?”
When asked if she had anything to add to her elder sister’s statement, the younger niece said “nope.”
Memorial services will be held at First Southern Baptist Church, where, upon request of the deceased, Conan the Destroyer will be shown after the memorial service. The casket will be removed to Annie Lennox singing Into the West from The Return of the King.
“She was so funny,” her dear friend said, fighting tears and wringing a tissue. “She was always quoting movies and that TV show Friends. She loved that show. But she could be really serious, too, and she knew how to be sad. She didn’t make you feel stupid or embarrassed for crying. Well, except that one time, but that was funny. She always said she had to go for the funny. Yeah, she was weird, but in a good way. A good weird.”
“She was an odd duck,” another co-worked said. “A nice gal. Always laughed at my jokes, but an odd duck.”
“Sure she was weird,” one of her brothers confirmed. “Who picks a turtle for a brand? She was a freaking squirrel.”
Robynn is survived by six cats and a dog. She is preceded in death by ten cats, six dogs, six ferrets, four fish and one rabbit. According to a reliable source, she believed firmly she would be reunited with all of them in heaven, although she admitted to no idea whether they would enjoy city life and mentioned the hope of a country house on the new earth instead.
She leaves behind two unpublished books and numerous unfinished manuscripts. Her last words, as far as anyone can tell, were a text to a friend. Can’t think of anything to write about for NAF. Maybe a bike ride will clear my head. All the words were spelled correctly.
Yes, she was weird.
(By the way, Robynn is just fine at the publishing of this post, and will likely remain so until the persons not actually interviewed for this false news story recognize themselves and kill her. Probably with spoons.)