Death in Crisis

Death is so fucking weird. I mean, he holds life in the palm of his bony hand, and he gets all googly-eyed over a puppy.

Yeah, Death got a dog. A bichon frise.

"It's bēshō frēzā."

"Really? You sure?"

"Fluff, I'm a tad bit more universal than you..."

"So you can say, 'Time's up, big fella' in 6,000 languages. It's still just a kickpup."

"I dare you."

"I'll pass. So, first the glasses, now a dog. What's up with you?"

"I think it lends a bit of winsome to my overall bonhomous persona, don't you?"

"Dude, you're Death. A puppy ain't gonna make folks any happier to see you."

"Well, that's hardly fair. I'm a very likeable haunt."

"The puppy just peed on your shroud. Look, I know you're having a bit of a rough go these days..."

"Why do you say that? I'm doin' awright."

"Hm. Well, first, there's the spectacles. People don't really expect Death to be concerned with appearances."

"THEY MAKE ME LOOK OLDER."

"I REALIZE YOU THINK THAT. That's not all, though - there's the whole wallpapering incident."

"What do you mean?"

"You wallpapered every room in your house with floral print."

"So? Can't a spectre like flowers?"

"It's...a bit cloying. And then there's the sleepovers..."

"You don't like it when I pop over unannounced?"

"Think about it. Death shows up on my doorstep at 1:30 in the morning and tells me to grab my PJs and the makings for cosmos. Who's gonna say "No" to Death?"

"I really thought you LIKED it..."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I DO like it. But, it's indicative."

"Of what?"

"Really? You don't know?"

"No, I don't. I may be universal, but I'm not very well socialized."

"That's just it, Death. You're lonely."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"AM NOT."

"Yes, yes you are."

"WELL YOU'RE STUPID! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO SAY BICHON FRISE!"

"Sigh! Come in and sit down; I'll make you a cup of hot cocoa. And for chrissake, hold that damn puppy still!"

"Can I have a chai?"

"Only if you say it in iggpay atinlay."

"What's that mean?"

"Universal, my ass."