I vividly remember the first one I attended. I was five and it was my father's cousin's funeral. He (a married man) had been messin' around and his girlfriend's husband shot him dead. Cut to the funeral. Country church. Widow dressed in the usual way, black dress and long black veil, had been seated in the front and the service started. Just then, the girlfriend comes in, black dress and long black veil, and seats herself about halfway down the aisle. Funeral starts. Girlfriend starts in'a sobbing: "OH, DELBERT, YOU WERE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD!!! OH, DELBERT, WHY DID GOD TAKE YOU AWAY??? OH, DELBERT, ………………………"" The widow, Berta (who was known as Big Berta for good reason), put up with about 30 seconds of this. Then she rose from the pew, stepped out into the aisle, threw back her veil, marched down the aisle and snatched the girlfriend out of her pew. She proceeded to knock her down, kneel on her, grab her hair and pound her head on the floor. My mother was trying to keep me from seeing this, but I managed to stand up on the pew to get a good view. All I could see was Berta's rear end. Her dress had flipped up and there was at least a yard of yellowed ancient girdle bouncing up and down as she administered a can of whoop-ass to the girlfriend. Berta was pulled off, dusted down and returned to the dignity befitting a recent widow, and seated in the front of the church again. The girlfriend was hustled out. The funeral restarted. I was a teenager before I attended another funeral. None of the funerals I attended after that have been that.....uh......eventful (except, maybe, for one where one of the mourners dove head-first into the casket, but that's another story).