Rhett nodded, thoughtful. “Well. Let’s see how long it takes, shall we? Take your consent form and shove it up your ass. You’re not getting my liver, old man.” Gasps of shock rippled through the nearby staff, then Jeremiah started laughing. His laughter then morphed into coughing, which went on and on and then… stopped. The monitor beeped long and low, and medical staff leapt into action to try and revive the Father of Good, but Rhett just turned his back on them all. He knew, like I did, that it was too late. Karma had come calling, and that demon had just breathed its last gasp.
