Duke Roger was angry.

He was dead. Being dead is generally not fun, nor conducive to a good mood. In fact, being dead was quite the opposite. He quite liked the idea of being alive. It was a rather exciting life experience. Damn that shifty pun and damn that cross-dressing maniac that put him in this infernal coffin! She could have just minded her own business and let him destroy the kingdom, but NOOOOOO! She had to save her friends, who would probably want to rape her now they know she is a she.

Roger ate another Powerful Fresh Breath Mint. They were the only things he was ever given to eat in this infernal place. The mints he was eating were actually those 'nice-smell-releasing-capsules' that they put in coffins back in the day. However, he found them quite tasty. Tasty indeed. Nonetheless, he did miss the finer things that came with life. He missed the caviar, the canapés and the rice. That's right, he missed rice. Being the king's nephew, he had been supplied with all the gourmet treats and after a while, he had found it rather tiresome. So, he just liked plain old rice. Now he supposed he'd rather eat all the gourmet food in the world than be in this infernal place.

Roger was beginning to wonder if he would ever see Delia again. Sure, she was a bitch, but he had nursed a soft spot for her - if you know what I mean....She was there when he died, of course. He wondered whether or not she had really loved him - or was she just in on it for the fame and fortune? Oh, how that woman loved a scandal.

Roger sighed, or as much as he could here. There was not really much else to do but sigh. Sigh, sigh, sigh. That's all he did, all day long. Or all night long. He wasn't exactly sure; time did seem to be a bit wacky in this place.

Roger had become so proficient at sighing, in fact, that he had invented a whole new language purely out of sighs. He called it Sigh Language. There wasn't much else to do, so sometimes he sighed stories about cats and evil knight-women with purple eyes. It relieved the dreariness somewhat.

Occasionally, Roger wondered whether he'd ever go back to life. It was rather enjoyable, life was. Full of air and general things you need when you're alive. Of course, there were things back in life that he didn't need or want; cough, cough, Alanna, cough. Well, he wasn't really coughing because as we may remember, he was dead, and dead people do not cough. Roger was a magician in his life - maybe magic could get him out of this infernal place. He had found that magic always helped him out of a tight spot. Well, except when there was a certain red-headed-cross-dressing-cat-carrying-purple-eyed-sword-wielding-maniac around. He was rather in a tight spot now. This particular tight spot had started that night many nights ago when he challenged Alanna to a duel. A small part of him secretly knew he would probably lose. An even smaller part of him secretly wished that Alanna would end up skewered on his sword. He supposed those secret wishes weren't so secret to the general public anymore. But that aside, life was truly the best thing that had ever happened to him. He tried to lift his arms but alas, they would not lift. He looked inside himself but he could not find head nor hide of orange fire.

Roger sighed royally. He was sick of being dead. He might actually have just been sick from eating too many of those 'nice-smell-releasing-capsules' that they put in coffins back in the day, but that was somewhat irrelevant. So, Roger decided that yes, death was overrated and he needed to be back in the world of the living. Alive! What a wonderful prospect it was. He felt like jumping up and singing a song like they always do in those Disney movies. But Roger always thought those musical comedies were overrated. Those, death and gourmet food were all overrated. The only issue would be getting back to his living state. He wasn't feeling too energetic - can you blame him? Roger was feeling rather depressed. Doing things in general is a bit hard when you're dead. He sighed. Maybe one day if he ever got out of this infernal place, he would write his story down. It would be called 'The Idiot's Guide to Being Dead.' It probably wouldn't sell very well due to the fact that the dead can't very easily walk into a bookshop and say "Hello, I'd like a copy of 'The Idiots Guide to Being Dead' please." Roger chuckled at the shop assistant's reaction. Who's dead now?, he asked over her body. He guessed this was why Alanna the cross-dresser didn't like him very much; he was pure evil. Being evil was fun, though. If you're evil, you can take over empires and do other slightly nasty things. Being good seemed so boring. All you get to do is save other people's necks and you never get to do anything for your own benefit. Damn Alanna and her posse!

Roger sighed. It looked as though he would never be alive again. He would never get a chance to make something explode or kill someone. But perhaps salvation was at hand - just as Roger lay in his infernal coffin thinking these things, several people walked noisily into the crypt where he….was dead. Roger heard their voices, but could not hear what they were saying, due to the concrete nature of the infernal coffin. Roger assumed that they were enemies that came to laugh at his err…dead…ness? Roger sighed again. He was so depressed. If he was alive then he probably would have committed suicide. But alas, he was dead and the deed was already done. Roger sighed again.

Roger was examining a crack in the lid of his coffin when it opened. Roger gasped. Maybe he could invent a language of gasps. Only, that wasn't very important to him right at that moment. The important thing was that he was staring up at the red-headed cross-dresser who was staring down at him with a smirk on her face. Wait a minute; Alanna the sword wielding maniac had revealed herself to be a girl already - so why was she dressed like a male specimen again?

"You see Delia, I have raised the dead!" the cross dresser exclaimed. Roger was confused. The voice that had come out was well and truly male, yet Alanna had had a female voice (strangely enough). Something clicked. This was THOM! Dearest Thom, thought Roger, he has come to raise me from the dead. He'll probably be dead if his evil twin finds out. You see, Roger, being evil as he was, saw good as evil and therefore thought of Alanna as the 'evil twin' mentioned above.

Roger felt strange, like there was a hammer beating against his chest. Ah, my heart! He was circulating blood again. This was probably a good thing. He breathed deeply and sat up, much to the amazement of the others in the room.

"Yes, I'm free from that infernal place!" he sighed. He then realized that Thom and Delia probably weren't fluent in Sigh Language. The two exchanged a look and Thom asked politely, holding out a green box, "Well, whatever you meant by that, may I offer you a Powerful Fresh Breath Mint? They're quite tasty, and you do seem to have horrendous breath after all that time in the crypt…"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Roger screamed. The infernal place was going to follow him around for all eternity!