Beer Can Coffin - PUHLEEZ!!!

Illinois man orders custom beer-can coffin
Sun May 4, 11:13 PM ET

Bill Bramanti will love Pabst Blue Ribbon eternally, and he's got the custom-made beer-can casket to prove it.
"I actually fit, because I got in here," said Bramanti of South Chicago Heights. The 67-year-old Glenwood village administrator doesn't plan on needing it anytime soon, though. He threw a party Saturday for friends and filled his silver coffin — designed in Pabst's colors of red, white and blue — with ice and his favorite brew.
"Why put such a great novelty piece up on a shelf in storage when you could use it only the way Bill Bramanti would use it?" said Bramanti's daughter, Cathy Bramanti, 42.


At the gates of Heaven:
“Louie, just go get St. Peter.”
“But he’s in a meeting with, you know, Mr. Big.”
“Louie, go to the door and tell him we just got a guy delivered in a beer can.”
“Geez, how short is he, Gabe?”
“The can is big, never mind, just go tell St. Peter.”

An hour later:
“Gabe, St. Peter said just use your best judgment and handle it. He’s trying to influence Pres. Bush to take the billions he wants to use to build missile sites in Europe with and use the money instead to rebuild New Orleans. He said he’ll back your decision.”
“He can’t get Bush to do anything right, you’d think he’d stop trying by now.”
“Yea, that’s true. You think Bush knows he’s got the Number One seat in Hell waiting for him?”
“Nah Louie, the guy’s a moron. A Yale frat boy. There’s a whole contingent of his Skull and Bones Society buddies there. He’ll be right at home.”
“So what are we gonna do about this guy in the can, Gabe?”
“Well, first, ah, we gotta get him out! He’s in a big can Louie, walk around it and see if it’s a pop top or if we need a can opener.”

Five minutes later.
“Okay, Gabe, I walked around the whole thing. Who knew they now sell beer in giant cans? When I was there, the biggest thing we could get was a keg.”
“A keg is still the biggest container, Louie. I just got word that this guy had this beer can coffin custom made.”
“Cool. Can we put it in our Coffin Hall of Fame?”
“Definitely. Go find Mario. Tell him bring a propane torch. We gotta cut this guy out.”

Two hours later:
“It’s okay Mr. Bramanti, come out. I’m Gabriel, this is Louis. We’re covering the front gate for St. Peter.”
“Wow! I wasn’t sure where I’d end up really.”
“Well, it wasn’t the best idea to be buried in a giant beer can. The guys in Hell would kill for a cold beer, you almost got kidnapped on the way and if they had opened this can and found you instead of beer, oh man, I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Well, I’m glad you guys got me. Listen, is there beer here in Heaven?”
“Yes, but you can’t get drunk. All the beer tastes like earth’s but there’s no alcohol content.”
“How come?”
“Because alcohol does strange things to people minds, like giving them the idea to be buried in giant beer cans. Any more questions, Bramanti?”
“Nope, I’m good.”