↓ Transcript
Death: I don’t know that for certain, though.
Emily: How can you not know?
Death: I don’t have scientists to find these things out for me, do I?
Emily: I thought you’d know everything.
Death: Of course I don’t. I think that’s impossible. Besides, it’d be terrible, knowing everything.
Emily: Some would say being you would be terrible.
Death: Really? It’s not that bad.
Emily: Exactly. But I think I’d rather know everything than be you.
Death: Seriously?
Emily: Maybe.
Death: Huh. Hey, I remember you now, by the way. I checked.
Emily: Oh, that’s good. Hey, who was the last person you talked to? Other than toddlers?
Death: Uh... that would have to be... Harshal, I guess.
Emily: What was he like?
Death: Grumpy and unhappy, mostly.
Emily: Oh?
Death: Yeah, he never liked me very much. Especially after his young wife died.
Emily: Gee. How did you meet him?
Death: He could always just see me, for some reason. In all my forms. We never worked out why. In the end we just took to ignoring each other. But we had a bit of a chat when he died.
Alt text: Alas, poor Harshal; I knew him...