Deathly Incompetence (10-20-17)

Death makes a mistake and comes to you. Upon realizing you are the wrong person, he lets you choose your death date for compensation. [link to post]

“Wow, turns out you’re a pretty nice guy, Death,” I said after he apologized. He shook his head.


“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not nice, I’ve just got rules I have to follow.” Death pulled a cellphone out of his robe and checked it. “I can still catch the right one, what death date did you choose?”  He asked. I had several in mind.


“I don’t know, there’s so many options, so many variables. What if I have a kid? I want to be sure I’m around to take care of them. But I don’t want to end up incontinent in an old folks’ home,” I thought to myself, aloud. Death seemed annoyed by me taking so much time to think.


“Look pal. Hurry up, or I’ll just kill you now,” he glared at me. He looked different. He looked human now. His scythe and robe were gone, he looked like a young man in his 20s. His hair was jet black hair and greased straight back. His eyes were an unsettling burgundy. Dark brown, with a noticeable tint of red. I’d never seen that eye color before. I shrugged at him.


“If you could do that, I wouldn’t be picking out a new death date, right?” I asked him simply. He sighed and nodded at me. He looked at his phone again, then at me. His eyes were a bit wider, something worried him.


“Can I come back?” He asked me. I shook my head.


“You inconvenience me, and then ask me to do you a favor? No thanks, I’ll decide on something here in a second, hold on.” I brought up a picture of my girlfriend on my phone. Whenever I was lost, she helped me find my way. “Can I transfer it?”


“What do you think this is, a punch card for a free sandwich?” He growled at me.


“Okay, wow. Just asking.” I apologized. “Sorry.”


“What about information? Can you tell me when she’s going to die?” I showed him my girlfriend’s picture.


“You’re kidding me. Jesus.” Death complained. “SORRY!” He shouted an apology upward.
“Look, I’m going to level with you. I’m new. This is my first week. I’ve been fucking up A LOT. One more time and my ass is out of a job. I can’t go back to Hell. Your girlfriend is scheduled to die the same day as you. Whenever that is.” Death lowered his head. “This is not my first fuck up.”


“We can do that? Be vague that way?” I asked. The love of my life had once again shown me the way.


“Yeah. I mean, it’s vague, but still a definite thing that can be measured. Look man, I was honest with you. Can I please come back to work this out? My job is totally on the line here,” he begged. My heart went out to him.


“Okay, with one stipulation. If you don’t come back, then I just don’t die. Which means she doesn’t die either. Sound good?” I asked, and stuck my hand out to him. He took it eagerly.


“Yeah, totally! I’ll be back, I promise!” Death disappeared.


I got a letter in mail a week later.


“Thank you for letting me go that time. I made it to my appointment and everything went smoothly. But I fucked up again after, and I’m headed back to hell. I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be coming back.”


Neat. My girlfriend and I were immortal now.

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