RomCom:
Instead of an accident, the dead couple are killed in a fake protest. The necrophiliacs, pretending to be protesters and revolutionaries, walk into the mall with ski masks and start shouting for random freeing of things, such as "Free:
Tibet, China, taco tuesday, air, refills, milkshake with purchase of a happy meal and the coupon from this sundays paper, Willy (pointing out that he means his penis), lemons from their merengue prisons, hugs."
Upon reaching the couple, one shouts "free eyeballs" and licks the womans eye (held open with his fingers) and slits her throat. Male freaks out and n2 stabs him in the back saying "free love" and jiggles the blade spastically. Security/cops (whatever) arrive, n1 shouts:"Free freedom!"; officer points out:"That's not how it works!" They run. End prologue, essentially. Funeral irrelevant and only necessary to establish correct grave.
As time carries on, the necrophiliacs become increasingly paranoid as the corpses seem to talk back and disapprove regularly. Culminates in a breakfast scene where they're clearly on one side of the table and the bones (by this point) on the other.
n1: Look at them. Not even eating. What are they up to?
n2: They've been plotting against us, you know. You can tell from the body language. I don't know what's going to happen, but we need to strike first.
n1: Agreed. What do we do?
n2: Simple. We kill us before they manage to kill us. We can't lose.
n1: Brilliant! Proper precautions must be made, however. Guns?
n2: Guns, certainly. Outside too. Let's not leave a mess behind.
n1: Ofcourse. We're necrophiliacs; not savages. Now?
n2: Now.
They get up to leave. N1 attempts to kiss one skeleton, stops and mutters: "Frigid bitch." as they head to their car. N2 just goes for the forceful full skull-kiss. After they leave, the bones talk to each other:
b1: Can you believe those assholes?
b2: I know. Didn't even give me time to put on lipstick.
b1: What? How is that your main concern?
b2: Hey! Till death do us part, yeah? Face it, we're over.
b1: I can't believe I'm hearing this. Mother was right about you.
b2: Again with your mother! Is she dead too?
b1: No, but not for lack of trying on your part.
b2: So what would she know about being dead? And her sweaters were hide- Wait, what's that sound?
b1: Sounds like animals.
b1&2: WILD DOGS!
N1+2 return to find some scattered bones.
n1: What the fuck happened here?
n2: Looks like wild dogs. Don't worry about it. There's plenty left for one.
n1: I'll get to work on the note, then. Do what you can. Toolkit's in the bathroom.
They use rope, bolts and assorted chiquanery to attach all the remaining bones into a sort-of-human skeleton with bits of the spine missing, the broken jaw directly on the ribcage and the third foot replacing the left hand. Add wear and breakage to taste.
Scene: front porch
n1: Good a time as any, I suppose.
n2: Yeah. Ready to die?
n1: Suppose so... Hang on. Weren't we killing ourselves to beat them to it?
n2: Yeah. Can't let the grinning bastards have the satisfaction.
n1: Yeah. Right. But they're all to pieces now, so what's it matter?
n2: Right, but this way we can make them pay in the afterlife.
n1: I'm not sure I follow.
n2: Then lead. *shoots n1 and then self*
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