(The three friends RED GUY, DUCK-MUPPET, and YELLOW GUY are standing around a hole in their backyard. Inside of it lies a faintly dog-shaped clump of shredded meat.)
DUCK-MUPPET: …and think of you across all time, such that you became present on January 5th and never departed, that the future light cone from that point would always contain you.
YELLOW GUY: I still don't understand why Fido not barking anymore.
DUCK-MUPPET: It doesn't matter, Yeh-
DEATH: HELLO, CHILDREN. TODAY YOU ARE GOING TO LEARN ABOUT DEATH.
RED GUY excited: Oh, yay.
DEATH addressing the camera: HAVE YOU EVER EXPERIENCED A DEATH?
YELLOW GUY: But wait, what is death?
DEATH: WHAT IS DEATH? WHY, DEATH IS ALL AROUND YOU! FOR MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF FEET IN EVERY DIRECTION, EMPTY PLANETS AND CHEERILY BURNING STARS HANG IN THE VOID LIFELESS, BEING USED FOR NOTHING AND DEGRADING INTO NOTHING. DEATH IS SIMPLY EVERYTHING YOU'RE NOT, AND EVENTUALLY IT WILL GET INSIDE YOU! THAT'S WHAT MAKES DEATH A NATURAL PART OF LIFE!
RED GUY: That sounds really boring.
DEATH: BUT HOW COULD YOU HAVE FUN IF YOU WEREN'T BORED? HOW COULD YOU EXPERIENCE PLEASURE WITHOUT PAIN? HOW COULD THERE BE LIFE WITHOUT DEATH?
(DEATH'S SICKLE slashes across light as the four friends are transported to a new scene. A handsome and pretty male and female coworker are neutrally finishing a project, not particularly enthralled, nor particularly uncomfortable.)
DEATH: IMAGINE A WORLD WITH NO PAIN. IN SUCH A WORLD, PLEASURE WOULD BE LOGICALLY IMPOSSIBLE!
(With another slice of his SICKLE the male and female coworker begin frantically taking their clothes off and pressing their mouths together. A moment passes. Viewer discretion is conveniently provided by a few luckily placed objects.)
MALE COWORKER in monotone: I'm not enjoying this one bit.
FEMALE COWORKER: I don't feel anything.
DEATH: YOU SEE?
FEMALE COWORKER with her eyes glazed: I can't feel anything.
DEATH: NOTHING CAN EXIST WITHOUT IT'S OPPOSITE! NOW, LET'S ADD SOME PAIN.
(DEATH'S SICKLE cuts through the shoulder of MALE COWORKER, poking through his chest and then tearing out his clavicle.)
MALE COWORKER: WHAT A COMPLEX AND INTERESTING SENSATION!
FEMALE COWORKER: HIGHLY AROUSING!
DEATH: AH, THERE WE ARE.
YELLOW GUY: I still don't understand. What does this have to do with death?
DUCK-MUPPET: And what exactly is an 'opposite'?
DEATH: THERE ARE SOME PEOPLE WHO THINK THEY CAN OUTWIT OR DEFEAT DEATH. THIS IS AN ADMIRABLE PROJECT! LET'S SEE HOW IT PANS OUT.
(A slash of the sickle and our protagonists find themselves among a FAMILY in their living room.)
DEATH: LOOK AT HOW BORED THIS FAMILY IS. THEY CAN'T APPRECIATE LIFE BECAUSE NONE OF THEM HAVE DIED RECENTLY! LET'S INTRODUCE SOME JIGSAW ETHICS.
(Another slash, and the scene changes to a lab, where an aged scientist is playing with overfancy gadgets.)
DEATH: THIS SCIENTIST HAS SPENT ALL HIS TIME WORKING ON A FULLY GENERAL TREATMENT FOR HEART DISEASE, THE LEADING CAUSE OF DEATH! BUT IN A HILARIOUS TWIST OF FATE, HIS HEART-SKIN HAS BEEN BREWING A STROKE FOR THE PAST MONTH.
(A slash of the sickle, and the scientist's hand motions become repetitive and his lips begin moving oddly, and he dies on the floor.)
DEATH, speaking softly: DON'T WORRY – EVERYONE'S TIME COMES TO AN END. HE'LL BE MADE IMMORTAL BY THE LEGACY HE LEAVES BEHIND, AND IN A THOUSAND YEARS, EVERYONE WILL KNOW HIS NAME. HIS CHILDREN WILL BE DEAD, AND THEIR CHILDREN WILL BE DEAD, AND EVEN THEN HIS NAME WILL BE ALIVE AND HAPPY. WHAT MATTERS MOST IN THIS WORLD IS THE IMPRESSION YOU LEAVE ON OTHERS, AND AS LONG AS HISTORY REMEMBERS YOU, THERE'S NOTHING MORE YOU CAN ASK FOR. YOU MIGHT LIVE TO SEE YOUR GRANDCHILDREN, OR EVEN YOUR GREAT-GRANDCHILDREN AS HE MIGHT'VE. BUT TO WANT TO SEE YOUR GREAT-GREAT-GRANDCHILDREN AS WELL, WELL, IT WOULD BE GREEDY TO WANT ALL THAT.
(DEATH steps aside as a graduate student rushes over to perform CPR on the SCIENTIST, and sirens begin in the distance. DEATH looks down and grimaces.)
DEATH: THAT WAS GROSS. GOOD THING HE DIED BEFORE HE GOT TOO OLD! OLD PEOPLE ARE DISGUSTING.
(DEATH turns to back to the three friends.)
DEATH: NOW IS A TIME FOR MOURNING, CELEBRATING THE LIFE OF THE VICTIM. HERE WE'LL SEE THE NATURAL AND EVEN BEAUTIFUL HEALING PROCESS BEGIN.
(Another scene change, and the friends are formally dressed at a funeral. Someone is eulogizing the SCIENTIST's work in the background. DEATH speaks in a hushed voice.)
DEATH: IT'S A TRAGIC STORY. HE SPENT HIS WHOLE LIFE WONDERING ABOUT THE FUTURE WHEN THERE WERE PROBLEMS TO BE SOLVED HERE AND NOW.
(As the MOTHER weeps over the SCIENTIST's body, DEATH digresses into the necessity of population control.)
DEATH winding down his monologue: THEY MAY BE SAD NOW, BUT LET'S CHECK BACK IN TEN YEARS TO SEE HOW THEY'RE DOING.
(Slash, slash. A girl is sitting in her room, staring at an old picture. She looks away and gets back to her homework. She doesn't wipe her eyes. She doesn't need to wipe her eyes anymore.)
YELLOW GUY: Oh, I see. Death is good!
DEATH: AND INEVITABLE. IT'S SCIENTIFICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO END DEATH FOREVER, AND IT'S SILLY TO THINK TO YOURSELF ABOUT POSSIBLE SOLUTIONS. FOR A MOMENT, RIGHT NOW. OR EVEN TO RESEARCH SOLUTIONS TO SEE IF THERE'S ANYTHING BLATANTLY OBVIOUS THAT YOU JUST NEVER THOUGHT OF BECAUSE YOU NEVER SPENT ANY TIME THINKING ABOUT IT. NO MAN HAS ESCAPED DEATH BEFORE. HUMANS WILL NEVER LIVE LONGER THAN 80 YEARS, AND DREAMS OF IMMORTALITY ARE JUST FANTASTICAL SCI-FI PLOTS, ACCORDING TO THE INTUITIONS OF SEVERAL MIDDLE SCHOOL CHEMISTRY GRADUATES. GAY SCIENCE FICTION NERDS ARE LIKE A RELIGION, OR BLASPHEMOUS, DEPENDING. WOULDN'T IT BE REALLY GAY TO TALK ABOUT WEIRD FUTURE-Y THINGS?
YELLOW GUY clapping his hands: That would be really gay!
DUCK-MUPPET: Yellow Guy, no…
DEATH: JUST REMEMBER THE MOST IMPORTANT THING:
THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO.