Death
Posted on Aug 14th, 2007
by
Nathan
Death was in an apartment building, in the hallway. All the doors were closed. Some people were looking out through the peepholes. Nobody wanted to let him in.
Death transformed himself into several hundred rubber duckies in many colors. But the doors remained shut.
"It doesn't matter what I do, nobody likes me," he said despairingly.
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“Several hundred rubber duckies”? Death is one sick bastard.
See, that’s just the kind of attitude that was bumming him out. Ever wonder why they call him the grim reaper?