a tale part 1

"a tale is a story, sometimes boring, but sometimes interesting (like this one).  Too many times a story starts in the middle, goes back to the beginning and then catches up to itself to end in dramatic fashion.  Thisstory starts after it is all over.  I am telling this story from the grave.  Not in a creepy way, I just can't tell it any other way since I am dead.  And the most interesting part of the story is that you will have to infer what happened from how I describe my current situation.  I am not six feet under ground, but only about a foot and a half.  I wasn't buried here, I landed.  I am still wearing a helmet.  It is pretty smashed, but enough of it is left to still be considered a helmet.  The suit I am wearing is brightly colored spandex.  I look like a human cannonball, and just might have been one.  I have been here for about thirty five and a half years.  I only used to be buried about 1 foot deep, but the sands of time have covered me over.  It wasn't suicide, you could tell from the knife in my back.  the knife looked like it belonged to crocodile dundee, but in fact it did not.  It was just a very large knife with a crocodile skin handle.  What a dishonorable way to go, stabbed in the back and fired for the last time out of the cannon I so loved, or so I think I recollect.  That is all I remember, the end.  Who was I?  There is a picture in my pocket of a lovely lady, perhaps about my age, but how am I to know?  It could have been my wife, or just a lover.  It is hard to remember things when there are more maggots in your skull than brains.  Oh to return to the beginning, to stop this from happening.  Is my wife ok?  Was my wife the one to stab me?  Could that be my daughter?!?!   Dearest me, to have life again.  give me but 2 years, higher being!!!!  What are you?  Who are you?  Why don't you help me?  What is the plan?  Why I am not in it anymore?  Have I really completely served my purpose?  What kind of sordid tale are you trying to tell?  Well its got nothing on my story.  My life was the best of all lives, I like to tell myself.  Why not?  Well I hope my story has inspired you.  I can't really gather any other info for you.  You decide what might have happened to me and let me know.  Look around above ground and get back to me." That is what this corpse is telling me, what is it telling you, Jimbo? 
Well sir, I think that lady is not his daughter.  He looks a little young to have a 20 something daughter.  I don't think he was a human cannonball sir. 
Then why the hell is he in that damned suit. 
He looks to me like a bicycle rider.  That helmet is definitely not strong enough to be fired out of a cannon. 
Unless he was an amateur, eh Jimbo?  You damned simpleton, follow what the corpse tells you!  Don't just make stuff up!!! 
Sorry sir, you are right sir, definitely an amateur cannonball.  But how, sir, did the amateur cannonballer fly 300 feet across this pond here? 
He was quite the amateur, you idiot!  He dreamed big. Isn't that at least obvious to you?
Well sir where do you think he was fired from?  Should we see if there are cannon tracks?
Oh my dear friend, I would fire you if you wouldn't do more damage to the world without my genius mind looking after you.  We are like Holmes and Watson, if Watson were as dumb as a bag of bricks.  I suppose we are more like Holmes and a bag of rocks he carries around.
Sir, that was a bit harsh, don't you think?
now you are thinking!!  This was an entirely harsh way for the man to die.
No I meant you sir!
Oh shut up, you are wasting our time with your pouting and whining, lets get back to the case.
Alright sir, sorry again sir.
Now tell me my friend, where do you think this amateur set his cannon?
Well I would guess the other side of the lake?
Good thinking, lets do a lap around and see what we can see.

end of part 1.......  Shall there be another part?  Hopefully