Thousands Are Dead; You Are Next

Scientists say that people are dying every day, and you might be next.
"It's only a matter of time before you die," Doctor Hubert Mellon said. "People have been dying for millions of years, so in conclusion you'll probably die, too."

The general consensus was reportedly shocked by this new case study, resulting in mass hysteria and lamentations.

"How the heck could this happen?" Mike Yannick grunted. "I finally got a job I like, and I'm supposed to get married next month...and now you're telling me that someday it's all going to disappear?"

"I have children to take care of. I can't simply 'die' and leave them all alone. This is highly absurd," concerned mother Lyn Boswell answered.

Indeed, many people are still in a state of denial over this harrowing kink in the system. According to a recent study, fifty-three percent of the population disregards the fact case, saying they "plan to live forever." Forty percent say that "science is retarded and we didn't come from apes," while seven percent states "bring it on, Grim Reaper bitch."

Well, this definitely isn't such good news.

For one thing, I was almost certain that my infallible human body would live on and on unless some crazy Mack truck slammed into my skull at one-million miles per hour. Oh, and the driver of the vehicle is the Incredible Hulk. Now, imagine my surprise when I learned that I'm supposed to become fodder in the next seventy to eighty years! What a gross load of liberal lies, right? Maybe we should take a page out of Ann Coultergeist's book and blame the "liberals" for screwing this one up, right? Or maybe it's Bush's fault. It seems the poor guy can't catch a break from anyone, so let's shove the blame into his apelike ears.

Fortunately, death has no political agenda. And it's a good thing, too. Can you imagine the Grim Reaper cutting down hordes of innocent people solely because they want to waste their votes on the Green Party? Huh, actually that would be pretty entertaining...

Anyway, I'm sure Death doesn't have any kind of jealousy towards us. The Hooded One never has to worry about the bills coming in the mail, or if his asthma is going to kick up after a vigorous jog in Central Park...On the other hand, he won't be able to reserve a copy of Super Smash Brothers, either. Okay, maybe he is a little bit pissed off at us for having flesh and pupils and taste buds, while he's restricted to nothing but stringy marrow and splintered bone. And looking like that, it must be hard to get a date. Just imagine what his personal matchmaker profile would read as:

"Seven foot five, weighs one hundred and fifty pounds. No hair. Occupation-death thresher and the deadly captain of the S.S. Your Ass Is Grass. My interests include reaping, tequilas, and flowing black robes "

Doesn't exactly read like a charmer, does it?

Naturally, someone as ticked off and misanthropic as the Grim Reaper should be appeased to at every waking moment, just to ensure that he doesn't conjure some black widows in our coffee on a ghastly whim. I really don't like spiders in my drinks unless I'm slamming down some rum and Coke-the crunchy parts ease the nausea, and slows the vomit that soon fills my trachea.
Anyway, I've managed to compile a list of things we should try doing to appease Ol' Deadhead, lest he get pissed and sneaks us something ridiculous like "snot cancer" or even VGHCS, which stands for Video Game Hand Cramp Syndrome. (I've seen the latter happen after vigorous rounds of Wii Sports, actually.)

Without further fluff, here is the grand list of grand things:

1) Greet the Grim Reaper with a friendly "What up, dude?" every morning. Just nod your head towards the sky (or the ground, depending on who he's courting at the time) and wave a neighborly hand in his direction. Sure, he might not be able to see you, but it's the thought that counts, right?

2) Speaking of which, be sure to send our buddy Death a birthday card-even if you missed it. It's the thought that counts, and even a belated birthday card is better than none at all. The problem? I don't know Death's birthday.

3) Send forth a flock of ravens in his honor at least once a month. The sight of the grim fowl should make Death's black heart swell with glee as he sees them burn into the setting sun. Bonus points if the ravens are dire ravens or zombie ravens.

4) Eat your broccoli. Why? Because everyone hates broccoli. Everyone hates Death. Therefore, Death loves broccoli. It's all relative, see? Eat your broccoli. The Grim Reaper likes when you do.

5) Killing ants is a good way to send a swarm of souls in the way of the Grim Reaper. Sure, they only equal up to a miniscule fraction of a human soul-it takes approximately three-hundred thousand billion ant souls to equal a sixteenth of a human soul-but every little bit counts! Death appreciates the thoughtful gesture every time you stamp on an anthill with your Crocs.

6) Skulk around town whilst waving your arms and screeching, "Death is coming! Death is coming!" To be fair, The Grim Reaper never did have much of an entrance when he arrived, so I'm sure he'd love it if you stroked his ego. It never hurts to have your own cheering section, even if you are, in fact, a thresher of the hellbound.

7) Construct poems and sonnets to the Grim Reaper. Make them really saucy and maybe suggestive. That turns him on. If you're a girl, you can take this an extra step and mail him a picture of your breasts or something. Maybe send him a pair of your panties. And if you're really dirty, you can offer to work his "bone." I don't know if the Grim Reaper is into dudes, though. I wouldn't risk it if I was you, guys-the last thing we need is a raging homophobic Grim Reaper who kills half of us just because you sent him a pic of your buns.

8) Talk to Death on instant messenger if you can. His handle is "BlackPlagueX6" and he is usually logged on anywhere between 9 a.m. and 1 a.m. You can also leave nice comments on his MySpace, which carries the same handle. Death could also use some good formats and themes for the site, so if you offer to help him construct more sparkly letter and bandwidth-eating videos, I'm sure he'd like that.

9) The Grim Reaper hates the Pittsburgh Pirates. If you are a Pirates fan, you're going to Hell. Try to watch Phillies games instead. I don't really know why Death hates the Pirates so much, but I heard that it involves Rollie Fingers and a poker game that Death lost.

10) Last of all, try to respect the sanctity of the Grim Reaper's good name. Don't write stupid stories about him. Don't dress up as him for Halloween or raves or anything like that. Don't use his name in vain, like "Grim Reaper damnit!" And don't say that it's "cold as death" outside, because the fella is sensitive about his body temperature. However, he does seem to get a kick out of the little Grim Reaper fridge magnets. If you stick those to your freezer, he'll slip a quarter under your pillow.

That's about all the advice I can give you on how to best appease Death. If all else fails, just kill yourself. Nothing would please the Grim Reaper better than the honor of escorting your soul to the next big frat party.