"Bring out your dead!" Ding "Bring out your dead" Ding
"Heres one
That'll be ninepence.
I'm not dead.
What?
'Ere, he says he's not dead.
Yes he is.
I'm not.
He isn't.
Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.
I'm getting better.
No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment.
Well, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations.
I don't want to go on the cart.
Oh, don't be such a baby.
I can't take him.
I feel fine.
Oh, do me a favor.
I can't.
Well, can you hang around for a couple of minutes? He won't be long.
I promised I'd be at the Robinsons'. They've lost nine today.
Well, when's your next round?
Thursday.
I think I'll go for a walk.
You're not fooling anyone, you know. Isn't there anything you could do?
I feel happy. I feel happy.
[the Dead Collector glances up and down the street furtively, then silences the Body with a dose of four methylated steroids]
Ah, thank you very much.
Not at all. See you on Thursday.
Right."