Strange Meeting

‘Henry who?’

‘Flower.’ Said the grim reaper, leaning nonchalantly on his scythe.

‘Sorry, buddy. Never heard of the guy’, Edward G bluffed as Henry trembled in the larder.

‘Your face rings a bell. Have we met before?’ the grim reaper lingered with stony menace. ‘Anyway here’s my card.’

Edward G took it and read: Fred McMurray – Escort to the Stars.

‘Quasimodo, sanctuary factotum.’

They shook hands coldly.

‘I knew that face rang a bell! Sorry to have bothered you.’ McMurray took his leave. Henry groaned an atavistic groan.

‘That was a close shave.’

‘No worries, Henry old man. I’ve had dealings with that guy before. Should have given him the chair.’

‘Is that customary?’

‘Was once…was once. They get away with murder these days.’

‘Who? Chair-menders.’ Henry was perplexed.

‘No, murderers.’ Said Edward G, a sinister impudence broke across his pudgy, little face. ‘Time for the quail’s eggs and anchovies.’

‘Good idea!’ said Henry, reaching for his Spiderman bib.