Tap, tap, tap.
Death sighed. On the one hand, having Father Anderson recommend his services out to all of Iscariot was extremely good for business.
On the other hand it did mean he was attracting much more irritating clientele.
Death floated into the main room to see a tall, silver haired priest staring up at a blank space on the wall.
"Where was that painting that you had hanging up here the last time?"
Death had already learned how obnoxious a customer Enrico Maxwell could be.
"Why do you ask?"
"I was thinking about attempting to purchase it."
"I'm afraid I already sold it to another gentleman."
Enrico frowned and started to mutter in Italian. Death cleared his non-existent throat. "I speak Italian, you know. And I find that remark most offensive."
Enrico frowned and switched to muttering in Greek.
"I speak Greek as well."
Enrico opened his mouth, but Death cut him off before he could speak. "I also speak Latin."
"Is there any language you don't speak?"
"No."
"Can you read my mind, then?"
"Only when I want to."
Enrico and Death stared at each other for a while.
"As I am now," Death said.
Enrico's eye started twitching.
"…Why don't we just… start with the haircut?"
Enrico nodded. "I believe that would be a good idea."
"Indeed. Take off your glasses, let out your hair, and sit down, please."
Enrico complied, still grimacing.
"I take it you do not have any contact lenses available?"
"No," Enrico growled, "And stop reading my mind."
"I wasn't, I merely deduced it from the fact that you have your glasses. Now, will we be dying your hair?"
Enrico's eye started to twitch again. "My hair is naturally silver."
"Of course it is."
"No, I'm serious. It is naturally silver."
"I don't doubt you sir."
"Look, if you can read my mind, you would know that it's naturally silver!"
"I don't know what your talking about sir, I can't read minds."
Twitch twitch.