— When did it happen, Mr. Van Cleve?
— Tuesday. To be exact, I died at 9:36 in the evening.
— I trust you didn’t suffer much.
— Oh, no, no, not in the least. I had finished my dinner…
— A good one, I hope.
— Oh, excellent, excellent. I ate everything the doctor forbade, and then… well, to make a long story short, shall we say, I fell asleep without realizing it. And when I awakened, there were all my relatives speaking in low tones and saying nothing but the kindest things about me. Then I knew I was dead.
— I presume your funeral was satisfactory.
— Well, there was a lot of crying, so I believe everybody had a good time.

Still a surprisingly amusing movie. — Andy Webb