The Italian food put me in a good mood, so I flag down a cab. Luckily the driver is focused on the road more than his customer. When the taxi stops, I fork out some change and hop out, dusting the crumbs off my cloak, brandishing my scythe.

The house is furnished with disgusting modern artwork that I disapprove of. I glide from room to distasteful room, searching for the dying body.

Found him! Curled in a corner, shivering and sobbing.

“Don’t worry,” I try to soothe this poor young man. “It will all be over soon.”

“But I don’t want to go!” he wails, and clings to his knees. This is going to be a long night.

“It won’t be as bad as you think. You’ll like the underworld. Look, you’re in a lot of pain, right?”

He whimpers.

“Well, if you come with me, it will go away.”

“I still don’t want to!” Now he struggles to stand, and starts to run in a similar fashion to a headless chicken. I wait, and check my watch. It is more than a half hour before he stops moving, and his soul leaves his body. Time to guide.