Misfortune and Death were at it again. Some poor old lady had dropped her hair dryer in the tub, and now they were ‘borrowing’ her apartment.

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. No matter where one went, the other would follow.

Misfortune’s iconic black suit was cast aside, and he was laying next to an equally disrobed Death. Her long black hair rested gently on her shoulders and bare breasts. Misfortune leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“You complete me.”

Death smiled, rolled on top of Misfortune. She wanted him inside of her. He wasn’t one to put up a fight. She brought her face close to his, whispered back “I know.” and kissed him, passionately.

Five stories down, a crack formed in an unsuspecting family’s stove line. Gas poured out quickly. Nobody noticed for a good hour or so, until Mr. Alan went to light a cigarette…

Misfortune and Death moaned as they simultaneously came…

“What did I miss?” asked Disaster as he approached the blaze. The woman on the street just kept crying.