Hey all!

This one should be funny. And I'm not sure if it's technically necro, but the image just won't leave me alone.

***

John looked around the nothing that he was suddenly in. It had a familiar feel to it. He sighed and realized that it didn't hurt to do so. So the virus had killed him, finally. At least he wouldn't have to put up witht he hospital food anymore.

A figure appeared behind John, solemn and silent as the grave. John turned around and smiled, like a boyfriend who's picked his girl out of a crowd outside a restaurant.

"I was wondering when you'd show up. Well, I've had a good, if short run." John said, calm as anything. Death didnt' bother him very much. And he had a plan to make his afterlife start out on a good foot.

Very deep. I suppose you'll have questions. The Spector said, waiting paitently for the usual barage of theological questions. Here, in this minute just before true death, time was stopped for both Death and the soul. So Death always took the time to talk to the dead. It made them feel better.

"Um, yeah. Are you single?" John blurted out. Death looked at him curiously.

What? Death asked, quite sure it'd heard correctly, but not entirely sure what the mortal meant. Fortunatly for Death, John elaborated.

"You know, is there a Mrs. Or Mr. Death I should look out for?" John asked, keeping extremely calm. This was actually kind of fun, when he thought about it. After all, how many people coudl say they'd actually flirted with Death?

That's like asking a wall it's opinion on dentistry, it just doesn't make sense. Death said, not unkindly or annoyed. Anger was not an emotion that came to Death easily. Offense was unknown to the spector.

"Yeah, but you know, times change. And I could be just the kind of change you're looking for. Lighten up your attitude. You know, the gothic thing is so overdone. Maybe people would be less apreensive to meet you if you were less scary." John said, gvign Death a very earnest look.

Death looked at John, for the first time in his timeless exhistence, Death was disturbed. It was a new sensation, and not one Death particularly liked.

Perhaps you should leave for the afterlife now. Death said, uncomfortably.

John grabbed Death's skull and kissed it with as much passion as he could manage, fully intending to take the ruse to the bloody end.

Death didn't recoil. Death did not know the meaning of 'recoil'. But it was not comfortable with the attention.

You will be going to the afterlife NOW. Death said, using the voice that had struck fear in the hearts of mortals since the beginning of time and before.

John took a step back, but then clung to Death's robes. "Don't leave me! Please! I love you!"

Death pried John of off his robes with his scythe, and called for his horse. A hose so pale it made the most fantasticly white horse look dingy strode over to him. Death stroked the horse, before pointing at John.

Take him to re-incarnation. I have a feeling the gods will be angry with me if I let him loose in their realm. Death instructed his horse.

The horse nodded and picked John up before galloping off. John didn't have to hold on to keep from falling off. If the horse of Death decided you were going to ride on it, you didn't fall off.

John laughed all the way to the re-incarnation depot. [St. John, old boy,] John thought to himself, [That was brilliant.]

***

That was fun.

Ravens land upon her Review!

Peace and Love,

Panther Nesmith