Death warmed over

Death lookeed ponderously at Freath... Fred. At least Fred assumed the Reaper had eyes or something else to look with, inside those dark bony sockets. SO YOU ARE ONE OF THOSE, he remarked.

"Those what?"

NEVER MIND THAT. TAKE THIS, BROTHER, MAY YOU SERVE ME WELL.

And with that Fred found himself the recipient of a small curved blade. "What is this?" he inquired.

SO YOU'RE NOT A FARMER. DON'T TELL ME YOU HAVEN'T SEEN A SICKLE BEFORE?

"Yes, but I kind of expected.... When do I get a scythe like yours?"

WHEN YOU REACH MY LEVEL. SHOULDN'T TAKE MORE THAN AN EON OR TWO. FOR NOW YOU'RE AN ASPIRANT. BEGINNER. NEWBIE. WHATEVER.

"Oh well. So what kind of Death am I then?"

1. NOT A DEATH YET. YOU ARE A DEATH IN TRAINING. A COMA.
2. THE DEATH OF SMALL FURRY CREATURES.
3. THE TEMPORARY DEATH OF PEOPLE WHOSE HEART SKIPS A BEAT.
4. DEATH FROM THE AGONY OF READING THIS EPISODE.
5. YOU'LL BE THE DEATH OF ME YET!

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