Death Moan
There’s nothing new, interesting or particularly clever about deciding to take your own life. Especially, when it’s muggins here who actually does the job of transporting it to the Ever Rafter – That’s the boat that we use.
Time was the ‘ER’ was a simple wooden raft; a functional item to carry dear departed souls to their perpetual and permanent torment, but the introduction of afterlife unions and the newly formed council of the Pre Tormented Soul Dispatch (or PTSD) have made it policy that even the most annoying of passengers must lament in extreme luxury before they are granted their very own personal Hell.
My suggestion of free cyanide shots was rejected in place of tea refills, Jammy Dodgers and fluffy cushions. I can’t think of anything more repulsive but that’s life… well, death.
Did you know that over one hundred and fifty thousand people die around the world every day? That’s one point seven people a second (a functioning point seven of a person is more common than you’d think). The knock on effect is that I have to traverse the globe, collecting and delivering souls in less time than it takes for you to read this sentence. In a sense I’m just like Santa Claus.
… Actually, scratch that. I’m nothing like Santa Claus. The super speed and beard is there, but I’m not a kleptomaniac, harbouring a senseless obsession with other people’s mince pies! And don’t even get me started on his waist line (something you never hear from the mince pies). Would it be so terrible for children the world over to leave him a salad once in a while?
I’ve been in this job for a little over four billion years, without so much as a coffee break. It wasn’t even my first career choice. I studied catering in college – opened up my own restaurant. Turns out ‘Inject a little Death into your Dining Experience’ wasn’t such a hot tag line. We closed within a week of opening.
That’s when I saw the advert for this place:
Delivery driver wanted for new planet.
Opportunity to make the job your own.
Apply within.
Well I certainly made the job my own. They named the service after me – I mean, who hasn’t heard of Death?
