The waiting room was dull. Every minute was the same, every dead person asked the same questions, and every answer (please take a number, your caseworker will be with you eventually) blurred together. No one stood out to the receptionist, until her.
Her skin was blue. That wasn't horribly unusual, plenty of people got fancy and exciting skin colors when they died. She had been green for decades now. However, the beauty queen couldn't help but think about how soft her skin looks, and how nice it would be to kiss her on the cheek.
The dead stayed in the waiting room for ages. Days if they were lucky, but usually it was weeks or months. Everyone died, everyone needed help. So, Miss Argentina had some time to work up the nerve to talk to her. It was a common question, but usually a good ice breaker for the dead. "How did you die?"
The blue woman looked up in surprise, raising her eyebrows. "I think it's pretty obvious, I'm falling to pieces over here," she said, gesturing to the pair of legs that were seated beside her torso.
"I see that, but people are bisected in a fascinating number of ways."
"My boyfriend was a magician. I was his assistant. Found out he was cheating and… Well, we did one last trick together," she said and waved it off, shrugging. "What about you?"
"All civil servants killed themselves."
"Lots of ways to get bisected, lots of ways to off yourself."
Miss Argentina held up her wrists, showing the wounds. "You know, if I knew then what I know now-"
"I know what you're saying."
The beauty queen rested her head on her hand, looking at the other woman fondly. "Death does have its upsides though."