You know, I had a sword for a couple centuries. Never cut nobody at all on purpose. Big fucking sword. Heavier'n shit. Really fucking big. Took me fifty years to get my spine straightened out after I quit carrying that fucker. Then in the '50s I had a boat anchor on a chain. Fucking huge boat anchor. I'd spin it like this, you know? It was wild. That sonofabitch got stuck in a giant fiberglass sugar donut on the roof of what I believe was a small police station in Kansas. I was pretty blitzed and in kind of a hurry so I figured fuck it, no more anchor.
For the next decade or so I was just hitting folks with whatever was handy, until one day when I got in a fight with this parade and I was fightin' and I realized oh boy what if I had a whip? Then I could whip this fucking parade right into shape. Then some great big fucker got me over the head with, I believe, a mail cart. I sorta forgot about the whip when that happened, but about the time I was getting out of jail, it popped back into my head, and so when Death pulled up out front the pen to drive me home I asked him if he knew any thing about whips. He didn't, but he said that best as he could guess I could probably pick one up if I just ducked down to Mexico with him while he run some errands.
Now I gotta run soon as I finish this drink, but I'll bet if you ask Death about what happened in Mexico he'll tell you the story. See, Death is desperately bored these days on account of that pretty little intern of his doing most all the killing lately, what's her name, Egger, I believe. Crazy fucking name but you know her parents were from California, so who the fuck knows what was going on with the naming there. Her last name is Ak. I don't know if her parents gave her that name too or what. I don't much like people who make up their kids last name too, but then again I ain't never in two thousand years had a last name, just a title, and that's Batshit so I guess I got nothing to say. Its just when I see it written I cant get past Ak being the postal abbreviation for Alaska, and I always wondering if there's a place in Alaska called Egger. Like she need a comma in her name. Egger, Ak. 99620.
Either way Death is awful bored these days so I suggest you ask him about that Mexico story, and I'm sure he'll delight in telling you all about it. Course, given that he ain't in the field much these days, prolly only chance you get to ask him be if you ask Egger when she comes around for you. Got to talk quick when you see her comin' cause she got a lot of killing to do so she don't waste much time but I'm sure she be willing to put you in touch with Death. Just don't ask in that, "I'd like to speak with the manager" sorta way, she hates that. Killed half a billion people and always some jackass acting like she ain't a professional. Shame.