THE GRIM GOURMET
WOW: Key. Even Death needs a lunchbreak.
Disclaimer: don't own him!
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No-one paid much attention to the gaunt, black-coated figure sitting alone in the pizzeria, methodically working his way through a deep-pan pepperoni pizza and an impressive array of side orders.
Taking a long draught of cola, he surveyed the chattering throngs.
These poor creatures, he reflected, all miserably labouring their way through platefuls of grass; ruminating like bored cattle on lettuce and grated carrot, and washing it down with glasses of mineral water.
They key to keeping him away - or so they thought.
He savoured a pickle chip and smiled; didn't they know that diet was just 'die' with a T?
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end