Chapter 39
A Tie-Gripping Farewell
Back in the Ninth-Tier Universe…
The Iffik family drama ended in the usual place: at a funeral. They sat in a wooden pew of the incense-clogged Holy Wombat of Our Ways Chapel. These were the stats twenty minutes into the service: Mrs. Iffik had dabbed her eyes five times. Mr. Iffik had folded his hands seven times. And Nancy and her brother had cleared their throats roughly every five minutes without entirely coughing (though Nigel came close twice).
The ceremony was a solemn but familiar one. When Pastor Reimus stood, they stood. When he sat, they sat. When he kneeled, they grunted and shuffled like ancients with aching bones.
And then they sat.
A penguin-like man with a bright orange toupee led the congregation in singing, “Pinnacle of the Multive
