“Oh,” he said, and added with sudden certainty, “you’re Death, right?” YES. I AM SORRY THAT I AM LATE. The spirit formerly known as Shoblang looked down at the pile of dust that represented his worldly habitation for the previous six hundred years. “So am I,” he said. He nudged Death in the ribs. EXCUSE ME? “I said ‘I’m sorry I’m late.’ Badabing-badaboom.” I BEG YOUR PARDON? “Er . . .you know . . .sorry I’m late. Like . . .dead?” Death nodded. OH, I SEE. IT WAS THE BADABINGBADABOOM I DID NOT UNDERSTAND.
