The story goes that after his execution, Denis picked up his own severed head, washed it by a spring -- apparently because he was fussy about all the blood -- and walked for about two Gallic miles (which is approximately six of ours, adjusted after inflation). And he was preaching all the way, through the mouth on the severed head he was carrying, until he reached a spot that he thought would make a good burial site. There he eventually dropped dead.
But not before stopping for some bowling.
Fun fact: He's the patron saint of people suffering from headaches (Catholicism has apparently never been renowned for its subtlety). But even better, apart from several paintings of St. Denis with head in hands, the motif was awesomely extended to the world of sculpture, where St. Denis is permanently remembered not for his good deeds, but for being the guy who could do this:
He was a head of his time.