↓ Transcript
(Emily arrives home; the door slams, her schoolbag thuds to the floor, and she sighs.)
Death:
Hello.
Emily: WHUH!?
Death: I told you I’d see you again. Should I have been more specific? Everyone does see me in the end, after all -
Emily: No, I got it, just... heck. I didn’t expect you so soon. Aren’t you busy?
Death: HA! I’m always busy, that’s no matter.
Emily: Isn’t it?
Death: No, I want to know how you remember me.
Emily: It’s not exactly a forgettable occasion.
Death: But hardly anyone remembers me.
Emily: How many people do you talk to?
Death: Hardly any, but they add up over the millennia. And only little kids.
Emily: Why?
Death: Their parents – or whoever – ask me to, sometimes. If they’re really little, they forget all about it. Usually. Even though it’s... a big event.
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Alt text: She was looking forward to having a minute to recover, but no