Sir Humphrey's Stupid Death

Disclaimer: Horrible Histories' Death and Ghosts don't belong to me.


"Next!", Death called in the direction of his 'waiting area' and watched a Tudor nobleman in a red outfit with a white ruff around his neck approach his desk. "Name?"

"Sir Humphrey Bone", replied the nobleman.

Death sniggered.

Humphrey frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing!", Death said quickly. Apparently, using 'to bone' as a synonym for adult activities hadn't been a thing in the Tudor era yet. "Year of death?"

"Fifteen- oof!" Humphrey's fist had punched him square in the face, causing his head to detach from his neck and hit the floor with a loud thunk.

Death burst out laughing. "Oh, silly me, why did I even ask - you're from the Tudor age, of course you were beheaded! Nice party trick, mate."

"Well, sort of", said Humphrey's head from the floor. "My wife was involved in a plot to kill the Queen, and the conspirators were found out."

"Yeees?", prompted Death.

"Soldiers came to our home to arrest her, and presumably me as well, so I hid up the chimney in our living room-"

"... got stuck in there, and died?"

"Er, no, not quite", said Humphrey's head, while his body started slowly spinning around in place, presumably searching for its missing head. "They didn't find me, left the room to look for me somewhere else, I climbed down and out of the fireplace and... well, the two swords that hung above it for decoration fell down and cut off my head."

Death stared incredulously for a second, then started laughing again. "Wait, you accidentally beheaded yourself?! Oh, that's priceless! I love my job, I do!" Taking a deep breath (well, as much as Death was capable of doing that), he gestured at the two glittery scythes forming an archway next to his desk. "You're through to the afterlife, Sir Very Headless Humphrey."

Humphrey's head frowned again.

"Nevermind, Harry Potter reference, the books weren't around in your lifetime obviously."

"No, I meant I need some help walking through that archway, my head obviously can't walk and my body probably won't go over there unless someone leads him by the hand", Humphrey's head explained.

"Huh, you're right- or I could do this." Death stood, stepped around his desk, and placed Humphrey's head back onto the Tudor man's shoulders. "There, now you can walk by yourself."

"Thank you!" With a wave (a careful one, so his head wouldn't fall off again), Humphrey disappeared between the two scythes.

Death watched him go, shaking his head and still grinning a little. "Accidentally beheaded himself with the swords hung above his fireplace... really, I love my job." He sat back down at his desk and turned his attention to the 'waiting area'. "Next!"