A Rocking Death

I never knew someone could be excited by the smell of shit, but here I was: ecstatic about it. My scythe glimmered in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. This was it, the final soul. Some idiot who decided to call himself the King of Rock and Roll.

I look down at the mortal below, who clearly thought this was a bad trip or a dream. They always did. Their world could never prepare them for something like this, even with all the religious books combined. I don't pity them though, most mortals are annoying anyway. I'm just doing my job.

"Potty training's over, get up unless you want to go out like Elvis." I chuckled lowly.

The mortal blinked, still in disbelief, and then looked at me with an incredulous expression. "Wait a minute, you're telling me that out of all the ways to die in this universe, I'm going out because you found me on the toilet? Seriously?"

I couldn't help but laugh, my bones rattling with amusement. No mortal has ever connected the dots that fast. "Well, you know what they say: When Death comes knocking, you gotta go!" I paused for dramatic effect, then added, "But don't worry, I promise to make your final moments memorable..."

The mortal's face contorted between confusion and resignation. "Great, just my luck. But, hey, can we make it quick and painless?"

I tapped my scythe thoughtfully, pretending to mull it over. "Hmm, quick and painless? Let me check my handbook." I pretended to flip through invisible pages before looking back up with a grin. "Ah, here it is! It says I can offer you a choice—classic beheading or spicy spontaneous combustion! What will it be for the king?"

Mr. Rock n Roll gaped at me, not expecting to be offered options for their demise. "Seriously? I get to choose?"

"Absolutely! It's your special day, after all," I quipped.

The mortal pondered for a moment, and then decided, "I guess I'll go with spontaneous combustion. Sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime experience." I noticed a glimmer in their eye.

"Excellent choice!" I said, raising my imaginary hat. "Let the fiery fun begin!"

With a wave of my bony hand, sparks flew from my fingertips and surrounded the mortal. They looked down at themselves, half expecting to burst into flames, but nothing happened. Instead, I had conjured up an adorable little firework show around them, with colorful explosions and tiny smoke rings. I guess in a way, it was a celebration for me too.

The mortal burst out laughing, watching the spectacle in amazement. "Well, this is not what I expected! If only I had my guitar."

"That's the spirit! Enjoy the fireworks, my friend. They're the hottest thing you'll see in this bathroom tonight!" I said with a chuckle.

As the last firework fizzled out, the mortal's laughter subsided, and they looked at me with newfound acceptance. "You know, Death, you may have a creepy exterior, but you're not so bad after all."

"Why, thank you! I do try to keep it light, you know, despite the whole 'grim reaper' thing," I replied, flashing a thumbs-up.

As they took their final breath, a sense of peace washed over the mortal's face. "Well, it's been an interesting ride. See you on the other side, Death."

"Looking forward to it! But take your time—I've got all eternity, after all," I winked.

And with that, the mortal's soul departed, leaving behind a faint sparkle in the air. I watched him go with a sense of fulfillment. Being the Grim Reaper wasn't always about doom and gloom; sometimes, you had to bring a little humor to the table—death—where the laughs and final acts intertwined in one bizarre dance of eternity.

I chuckled to myself, thinking of all the souls I had guided throughout the ages, each one with their unique quirks and personalities. Maybe being the Grim Reaper wasn't so bad after all; it was a never-ending comedy show, one soul at a time.

With a skip in my step (or as close to it as a skeleton could get), I vanished, ready to find my next soul-sucking adventure; and make it equally unforgettable.