THE GRIM REAPER DOESN'T HAVE SENSE OF HUMOR

I guess it was the wrong type of touch of the of hand for Mr. Reaper Man because I didn't see any darkness but only shades of excellent light. Hey dude, is Grim your first or last name, Reaper? Why do you and I continue to fight day after night if it is not broken and the wick is working? I will leave the candle burning so you will not get lost this time and find my home, but hey, you bastard, as you can tell, I have many lives, and baby, I got a mother fuckin old soul, so I was told.

I guess you did not care for my tea, tea party, or the cake all dressed in black with you riding the top instead of cherry. I thought it was pretty creative, even if I needed a glass of milk instead of my everyday double whiskey neat, and you almost choked.

Wait!! Wait wait!! Hold you, hold your britches. I figured it out. I now know why Mr grim Reaper and Nelly, his purple unicorn, didn't enjoy themselves at my tea party and why, in my dreams, he's trying to get me caught for shoplifting a $ 10 frosted caviar cupcake and an everything bagel with lox knowing I will eat neither because I'm allergic to fish and don't carry an epi-pen
 
The answer to my inquiring mind of why the damn Grim Reaper does not have a funny bone, only the one in his skeleton of a body, is because of the cake at the tea party to celebrate the day he almost tried to kill me, not once but twice, by the way, may I say not very nice was so fucking dry it nearly killed him, and that is why this guy has no sense of humor.

 Still, at least we are on a first-name basis. He likes to be called grim, and Nelly wants to pet behind the ears, just like a dog. Just be careful of her purple horn. Just like her owner, she gets excited when he speaks of death. That's when he laughs.