"Man, I feel like death warmed over," mumbled the dark figure. It threw open the blinds and groggily opened the window. It was a glorious mourning - the bats were screeching, souls tormenting, and blood boiled out in the yard.
"Gah, damn yardkeep forgot to kill the hedges!" Breathing a heavy sigh, it continued, "Must I do everything?"
Grabbing a nearby robe, it walked outside and smote the hedge. "Lazy ass bastard. If he weren't already dead, I'd kill 'im."
"Heh... death warmed over..." Death went back inside to have some pancakes.
* * *
The sun shone brightly through the apartment window. Sipping a cup of tea, Death looked over the entertainment section of the paper. "I dunno, Emily. It's just not jazz since I had to come for Miles."
"You always could have let him live, you know..."
"Not really. Regulations and all that. It's not easy being who I am. Ah, but you know that. I shouldn't trouble you with such things, being my only friend and all."
"That still amazes me. All the people you get to meet, and you never really get a chance to know them. Since I can already see you now, will someone else come for me when I wind up on the list?"
Death pondered that for a moment. "Hadn't considered that. I'll have to ask."
Emily walked over to the piano and looked at it in puzzlement. "Now, why was this sent here again?"
With that statement, a pipe in the radiator began to whine and expand as it ripped itself from the wall, shattering the plaster. The doors to the patio shattered as the pressure released from the bursting pipe, rocking the entire room. Wood planks beneath the radiator snapped as the dryrot from years of neglect by way of the landlord made itself known, causing the floor to slant. The piano, being very heavy but on wheels, made its way slowly to the opening, crashing its way through the iron railing and plunging downward some 12 stories to the earth below.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, Emily, I've got some work to do." And with that, Death departed.
* * *
As Timmy plodded his way down the sidewalk, a disturbing noise filled the air. Stopping in his tracks, he looked about, attempting to locate the source of his annoyance. Alas, Timmy was not all that swift, and did not find the falling grand piano quickly enough.
The crowd that gathered to witness the carnage was impressive, being that it was an overcast and drizzling day. A cold wind puffed and blew at the moistened conclave, taunting them with a cold like the grips of death itself. In fact, it was Death, and it was none-too-pleased with the gawking.
Taking Timmy's disembodied soul aside, Death said, "Boy, these people need to learn some manners. Sadly, your body there is pretty much squished. However, I'm willing to break some rules for this occasion..."
As it trailed off, Death pushed Timmy's soul back towards his body, and with a quick flick of the scythe, pushed life back into the muck.
As the drizzle mingled with Timmy's leaking bodily fluids, they began to run off towards the storm sewer, beneath the feet of the bystanders. No one noticed when the direction of the flow reversed.
With a horrible moan and the sound of cruching, snapping, and rendering bones, Timmy slowly rose up from the mess, his mangled form hanging limply in all directions. He scooped up his left eye, shoving back into the broken socket, and bent over to arrange his teeth in the proper order, should he feel the need to attempt to place them somehow in his useless, unhinged jaw. Blood squirted from his severed jugular, where a large gauge piano string cut across his neck, staining the umbrella of a woman who stood a bit too close.
Needless to say, she screamed and fainted.
Clearly pleased with the quality of work done, Death left to have some pancakes down the street.
Inspiration
