which is a tried and tested Pro-Life protest technique. His new mortal enemies (The Anti-Abortionites) preferred to burp instead of farting. This distinct philophical difference seperated the two groups fundamentally.

Death was getting cranky, because...

he couldnt find his lucky coin...

in his unhappy wallet. This was unfortunate, because he was standing in front of a fruit machine, watching those cherries rolling by, and

the hypnotic, rythmic rolling of the cherries was making him sleepy... "Must...Stop...The...Fruit..." Death whispered to himslef as his eyelids slowly...

crawled down on his empty sockets, ambushing whatever sight he possessed, sang him a lullaby, read him a bedside story, tucked him in and turned off the light. Now, if it hadn't been for that 5 gallon cup of coffee he just had, he'd be

all snuggled up, clutching his eyelids to his chest like a fleshy teddy-bear and dreaming a glorious dream. Sadly, the 5 gallons of coffee had turned Death into a shivering, twitching, clanking pile of bones that couldn't sleep even if his life depended on it (which of course it didn't, because he was death after all.)

Death sighed and dragged his bones out of his bed, hitting his skull on the top bunk-bed as he did so,

"Y'know what?" said death to his eyelids, "why do I sleep on the lower half of a bunk-bed?"

His eyelids didn't answer - but they knew the truth which was...

frightening...

The Death moaned:"Man! I'm older as time, I'm doing a job 24/7, this all is really exhausting!!!"

"You call that exhausting?! Why you twerp pile of Osteoporosis! If you knew how to controll that bladder of yours, then yeah, you could sleep up here. But guess what, I'm bleedin sick of having to watch out for acid rain and you dropping your toy scythe everytime you fall asleep!" said a red-faced Reincarnation from the top bunk, throwing a

book at Death's head. Death picked up the book and read the title - "7 Habits Of Highly Effective People."

"What makes you so effective?!" screamed Death at the red-faced Reincarnation. His cranky room-mate replied...

"well, for starters I don't go around pegging out my customers, then I mind my looks see? Honestly, people shut their doors in your face, don't they? I mean, c'mon. At least you could do something about that old, moldy robe of yours! Gah, you look like an undertaker for Pete's sake, not that Pete means anything to me, it's just an expression. An undertaker! Just what most people would love to have stomping around in their house. Seriously Death, you really need to read your basic public relations"