I met Death at the mall today and he was really nice. He was picking out a new tie. He wanted something somber but tasteful. He told me he goes to a lot of funerals.
I found one that matched his scythe. To thank me for my help he bought me a giant pretzel down at the food court. It was kind of dry and tough and hard to chew, but, hey, free pretzel.
I said it must be nice to take a break from all the killing and stuff. He shook his head and said, "No, I never get a break. I'm still on the clock."
You know, maybe he isn't such a nice guy after all. Or maybe he just doesn't know the Heimlich maneuver.