A bald fellow in a black robe carrying an evil scythe was standing before Jim. "Hello. You may not have realized it but you just ran into a flying cocktail party at a speed close to 12 nanoparsecs per fortnight (680 mph thereabouts) You did not survive," he said.
"The hell? Who are you?" Jim asked.
"You stupid boy." He took a step back and posed dramatically with his scythe.
"Oh, you're the Grim Reaper."
"That's right." Death drew a manila file folder from the folds of his robe and opened it. "Looks like you're something of a depraved pervert. It'll be tricky to find a fitting punishment for you."
"How 'bout I be consigned to an eternal pillow-fight with a bunch of hot naked babes?" Jim suggested.
"No. A couple sketches I have here involve an eternal labyrinth where you sometimes see hot naked babes in peripheral vision or accidentally bump into one around a corner, but they disappear if you look at them or try to touch them a second time," Death said.
"That's pretty harsh. Any others?" Jim asked.
"Well you could get Sisyphus's treatment and just push a rock uphill for the rest of eternity."
"Let's see, a maze with tantalizing phantoms or pushing a rock."
"Tantalus is stuck in a pool of water that drains whenever he tries to drink some of it. That's where the word comes from."
"Can I challenge the legitimacy of my death?"
"You got smashed to pulp by a flying cocktail party. That sounds like a pretty legitimate death to me."
"I know how this works: aren't I supposed to be allowed to win my life back some way?"
"You could, but I have almost never been beaten," Death said grimly.
"Hmm..." Jim said.
What does Jim do??
Thu Feb 19 19:19:27 2004