|Don't Fear The Reaper
Author: Deranged Black Kitten PM
I never expected the first sign of the apocalypse to be in bold print on page three with a question mark. “Reaper Terrorist Group Behind Plague?” Takes place after His Freefall.Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Drama - John D./J.D. - Chapters: 8 - Words: 27,734 - Reviews: 90 - Favs: 40 - Follows: 73 - Updated: 10-13-09 - Published: 07-27-08 - id: 4427771
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hey everyone! It took me a little while, but I've finally got the plot together (er... mostly) and I'm ready to start the fifth and final story in my Scrubs/Dead Like Me crossover series. Also, I was blanking on the summery for this fic, so (shrugs) that's all I have for now.
If you haven't read the four previous stories, then this one won't make much sense. For those who want to know the order of the previous fics, it goes "My Deadly Little Secret", "My So-Called Afterlife", "Shadows of the Grave", "His Freefall," and finally this one.
Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.
All right, listen up boys and girls. I'm going to tell you an important little story on a not so little issue that you should have been told of a long time ago. Let's cover the facts first, shall we, because you're all either too stupid to comprehend this or you've all become so wrapped up in your mass hysteria drama to remember what, by now, should just be plain common sense.
I don't care what any dim-witted scientist tells you, you can't stop death and you shouldn't want to either because without death, there is no life. From the moment we're born, we start to age and if you haven't figured it out by now, aging is just another form of dying. Our bodies grow and deteriorate until there's nothing left.
A² + B² equals C²
It's simple math, people! If you take death out of the equation, you stop aging, and before you go thinking that's a good thing, consider this: if we can't age, we can't move forward. Everything would be frozen in place and nobody would move past the baby stage. Of course, for all of you, that could only be an improvement.
Now that we've gotten that all straightened out, let's get started with story time. You ready for this?
Once upon a time, long before the beginning of time, in a place where even sundials were unheard of, there existed a higher power. Some of you might call him God, I myself fondly think of him as Mr. Never-Ending-Pain-In-My-Ass. God, being the asshole that he is, got bored and decided to create death. It didn't occur to him until afterwards that not everyone would like the whole idea of death, and because he had a bit of a reputation for being infallible, God decided to push the blame on someone else.
So God stuffed death into a poorly made, extremely fragile clay jar and gave it to a toad who clearly could not handle the responsibility. Why did he do this, you may ask? Well, aside from the fact that God is an asshole, death wasn't something that could be contained in a simple clay jar, but God would say otherwise if anybody asked and the fault for death would fall on Toad.
As expected, not too long after receiving the jar of death, Frog, who was just as big of an asshole as God, came along and broke Toad's jar. So death got out and since then, everything has had to die.
But our story doesn't end there, boys and girls.
Soon after death escaped the jar, God, who couldn't plan ahead if his existence depended upon it, realized that the souls of the living were horrible at following directions and couldn't find their way into the afterlife. It is for this reason that God created a couple hundred babysitters dressed in black cloaks, because God had a weird thing for robes and cloaks, and armed them with farming equipment in case the souls needed to be put in timeout.
"I'm not paying you for this," God said, because as I have mentioned before, he's an asshole. "But I will give you the power of anonymity and a magic touch that will free the souls and send them into the afterlife."
"Well, I guess that's not so bad," the babysitters agreed, being the understanding group that they are. "We get to help people and at the same time be left alone."
So the babysitters went and did their job without even taking a single well-deserved day off. However, the people they were helping didn't appreciate the work they did and came up with the nickname 'grim reapers.' That was fine though because being called a grim reaper was much cooler than being called a babysitter.
The grim reapers continued to do their job, although they ditched the black cloaks and farming equipment because that was so last millennia, and they did it all with a smile for wasn't it nice to be helping people's souls move onto the afterlife and wasn't even more nice to be able to do it all without being bothered by the living?
The moral of this story, boys and girls, is that grim reapers and death are two separate entities, but the real moral of the story is that this is just a story, and you're even more stupid than I thought if you think otherwise.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a funeral to attend.
That's the end of the prologue. I know, it's kinda vague, but don't sweat it, it'll make sense eventually. Credit must go to Dead Like Me for the part of the story about the toad, the frog, and the jar of death.