When I was in the hospital the other day for my gauged-out eye and my chewed-off fingers from that goddamn falcon, my roommate was an elderly guy who kept moaning about wanting to "die with dignity." "Let me die with dignity . . . die with dignity" was all I heard from him. So right after midnight, when our room was semi-dark, I crept up to his bedside dressed in a long black, not white, gown, and wearing a long-sleeve shirt underneath.
When the old guy noticed me, he obviously took me for the Grim Reaper himself, judging from the frightened look on his face. "Die with dignity" was all he could whisper. It was at that point that I made sure he saw the sterling-silver cufflinks on my shirt.
-Old Gargoyle
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