[ WP ] You 've been best friends with Death your entire life . When you 're about to become President of the largest world changing company in human history , Death turns to you and says `` Tomorrow , 3pm . ''

That sick to your stomach feeling you get when you go into flight or fight mode but ca n't respond either way, that stone that dropped through impossible depths in your gut, is known as anxiety - a rush of serotonin and adrenaline slushing around your stomach and into the neurons that lead straight to your brain - is exactly what you feel when you told you are going to die tomorrow at 3pm. Especially when it comes from Death himself. 
 
 We always grab one or two on a Thursday night as a primer for the weekend. Death and I had been friends since third grade when my mom died. He was more like an uncle or older cousin back then. He took me out for milk shakes after the funeral. He would come over and give me tips on my homework and sort of fill in where my dad could n't - because of his disease and all. Over time, he just became part of the family. When dad got worse, death started to get to know him more and gently eased him out while letting him know that he had raised a fine son who would be very successful one day. 
 
 That day would be today. CEO. Fortune 500. The works. I made it, except for one thing. As soon as I sign that contract, I'm dead. Watching the clock above the presenting board members was agonizing. It could n't go slow enough, but I wished it would speed up an just end it. 
 
 2:55. 
 
 I make my speech. The company has a bright future with the team I have before me. I am but a guide of their magnificent force. 
 
 Contract. Pen. Signature. Photos and handshakes. I push a smile out. 
 
 3:01. 
 
 What happened? 
 
 The rest of the day my heart races and my eyes are over my shoulder. End of the work day. Car does n't explode. No highway accident. I go for celebratory drinks. Still nothing. Say my goodbyes and head for Death's watering hole. My watering hole. 
 
 11:45 pm. 
 
 `` What happened?'' I asked. 
 
 `` Three o'clock, man. I told you.'' 
 
 `` Told me what?'' 
 
 `` You died.'' 
 
 That sick feeling again. 
 
 `` Now that you're a big shot CEO, fun you is dead, right?'' He laughs like the biggest fucking best friend asshole there is. 
 
 `` Two whiskeys, please'' I say as Shelly walks over for our order. `` On this asshole. `` 
 
 I punch him in the arm like he deserves.
