Well, there was this Texan living in London a while back. HUGE fellow he was, had to duck under all but the highest of doorways, (often had to go through sideways.) and he was always going on about how much bigger things were back home, used to really bore everyone senseless with his bragging.
Anyway, he had a heart attack and died one day, and wound up the a mortuary where a friend of mine worked.
Charlie was telling me about the trouble they had, trying to find a coffin big enough to plant him in. They looked everywhere, but there was nothing that even came close, and it would take time to have one specially made.
"So what did you do?" I asked.
"Oh," said Charlie, "it was simple, really............ We gave him an enema and buried him in a shoe box."