Every buddy wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die, everybody hates death, what’s with people these days, they never want to meet me anymore, Whaaaaaaaaaa, nobody loves me! Bunch of Meanies if you ask me. But hey you weren’t asking me so what the hell am I complaining about, I get to walk around with a big weapon and stalk people all over the world hey I even get a thousand names and descriptions to go with my skinny boney ass, but that doesn’t excuse anyone from not dying and we are going to sit down and have a lively discussion on how I choose my victims.
*squish around the too comfy couch and look longingly at my throne of bones and skulls* ‘clearing throat’ “Now that you have tuned in on Death and His Chosen Victims, please take a seat and do not change the channel we will be having some very special guests here today, including you!”
So you are probably sitting at where ever you are, hey I said I get to kill people not know what you’re doing twenty four seven, I’m not Santa Clause you know. I mean I ‘m a pervert and a stalker but I’m not fat or golly. I got asked to play in the show Santa Clause and I had to slice off the guy’s head. So they got someone else to play the part. Bummer! Yet anyhow I want to discuss the steps I take to choose the people that die and don’t think o’ that’s great he’s probably sitting at a table playing bingo but instead of the normal bingo with numbers and what not its people’s names and death dates. Well I did start off that way, but I never actually ended up winning any of those games so a lot of people were alive those years. Just to let you know I’m a sore loser. I’m not allowed to play games with the devil anymore because to him I ‘supposedly’ cheat! *shaking of the skull no, while behind him the devil is shaking his head yes while clutching his yellow rubber duck.* so I switched the system around, I now play the lottery! I mean I have another system that I run by. *nervous shifting of the eyes in the socket*
I now use the T.V. and other electronically devices, *grins* do you remember when the Native Americans were scared of letting the whites take pictures of them in fear of having their souls sucked through the camera, muhahahahahahahahahaha, I so took that idea and made it into a reality, isn’t that ingenious of me. I’m so fucking brilliant that it amazes me at times; even my siblings are so amazed they are speechless by my stupidity……. Hey someone messed with my notes damn, know I have to start all over again, whoever did this will pay, and I will have their souls. *moving around Azreal finds all of his notes messed up some had coffee stains on them, and we all know that death doesn’t drink coffee it goes right through him.* Frowning Azreal leaves the throne room and in pops the devil.
“Whatever you do, don’t let him have your soul he will lead you nowhere, because he hasn’t been able to get a Tom Tom, and we don’t want him. Run, Run my little mortal minions run.” Movement from the back caused the devil to get up his rubber ducky quacking as he squeezed it once or twice then ran off in the other direction.
Death came back a change of robes and some new notes clutched in his hands, well I seem to have done something wrong to piss off my siblings again, looks like Santa is giving me more coal for Christmas. Scratching his head Death looked down at his new notes before rising and waving goodbye to the camera looks like I have work to do so bye bye my little souls until next time. Grabbing his scythe he strides with long creaking steps out of the room mumbling under his breath about the tombstone that he needed to have created for the next hit movie star. As the door shut behind him catching and holding his robes in place until he opened the door and pulled the robes free. His minions watched him leave one holding a coffee cup with coffee in his hand the other clutching the new modified notes for the next interview. Grinning he placed them back on deaths desk and walked back to his own humming a sweet little child’s rhyme along the way.
WARNING: These stories are false and if you call me up complaining that I stole your soul for no good reason I will hunt you down and kill you. I hope your death is slow and painful. Have a horrible day!
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