Funeral of a Dead Guy as Told by Someone Who Didn't Want to be There

I hate funerals. First of all, the dress code is hard, being both formal and black, and myself possessing clothing that fits only one of the requirements. Second, everyone is sad and miserable, I am expected to be the same when honestly I don’t really care other than not wanting to be here and I would rather not piss off everybody by expressing such feelings so I have to keep my mouth shut and my head down and try not to look bored the whole damn time. Third, there is a stuffed corpse in a box for all the world to see and I am expected to look at it. I don’t care what anybody says, that ain’t Johnny and I am not going near it.