Me and Death- Part 2

Mckay: “Hungry?”

Death: “I'm a fat kid, I'm always hungry.”

Mckay: “Chipotle?”

Death: “Yusss.”

Mckay: “Hey, Don't you owe me a dinner?”

Death: “Nooooo.”

Mckay: “Yea dude, I went and got you Armandos last week when you were high as shit and didn't want to stop playing GTA IV.”

Death: “Ahh yea, well alrighty then.”

We got in his truck and went on our way. He always drives and I always don't. I guess because I go pretty slow, meaning the speed limit, and that's not really in his best interest. We didn't say a word to each other on the way there, which is the way we are a lot of times. I think it's one of the reasons he's my best friend.

We arrived and proceeded to the Mexican burrito assembly line

Mckay: “Extra rice please”

Death: “Do you always get extra rice?”

Mckay: “Yes sir, otherwise they give the minimum they are supposed to give. I will have none of it.”

Death:  “We'll now my burrito looks mini compared to yours.”

Mckay: “It looks kind of cute though.”

Death: “You're holding up the line, let's mooove.”

Cashier: “That'll be $6.70.”

Mckay: “Here you go.”

Cashier: “Oh hey,  nice shirt... Taking Back Sunday, Is that a bible group thing?”

Mckay: “No, I don't read the bible sorry.”

Cashier: “You know Jesus died for your sins?”

Mckay: “I'll die for my own sins, thanks.”

Death: “Here Ma'am, I got it for both of us.”

Death gave her a card and touched her hand slightly as she took it from him.

He had just killed her.

He has a quota of thirty people a month. All he has to do is touch them, and a within a week they will get in a car crash, or contract cancer, or meet some other untimely ending. We don't know how, or exactly when, but they will die. I think it makes it easier to not know the specifics.

Mckay: “Why her?”

Death: “I don't mind a bible thumper here and there, but when I'm paying for mexican food? Come on. I need three more anyways.”

Mckay: “Alright, just asking. She works the cash register anyways, not important to the art form that is my carnitas filled tortilla. Now if you killed the cute girl who folded this shit, then we would have a problem.”

Death: “Don't worry, I would never jeopardize the architect.”

Mckay: “Folding rice and beans is the the key to immortality then?”

Death: “No, finding a good Tabasco scheme would be. I used to never use Tabasco, then I used Tabasco on every bite. Now I use Tabasco on every other bite.”

Mckay: “Why don't you just use it when you feel like it?”

Death: “That requires me to think, and I try to live independently of that as much as possible.”

Mckay: “That's sad...”

Death: “You know whats fucking sad, I could fit two of my burritos into one of yours.”

Mckay: “I'm an artist.”

Death: “You're a dirty hoe.”

Mckay: “I will be a dirty hoe that's full.”

We finished up and went to the gas station to get some beer. We don't really drink a lot of party ever, but we enjoy a beer or two sometimes. No rhyme or reason, just a casual “sure” when one of us ask the other if they would like one. I dislike buying beer because people always think I'm 15 years old, they give me trouble about my ID, and ask me questions I know the answer to, but give a panicky sounding answer for anyways.

Death doesn't really have those problems. He doesn't always wear his cloak, but most people can tell there something about him you don't want to fuck with. He comes in handy when I go to the mechanic or bank for problems, and makes me feel confident enough to be belligerent and snappy to people in public.


Time to drink and watch Americas best dance crew on MTV.

Me and Death like to relax after a hard days work.


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