[ WP ] Your name is Death . You work 168 hours a week as the reaper of souls on planet Earth . You 're living on just a couple bucks above minimum wage , you like to travel , you have a crush on the reaper on planet Xenor and you secretly take 4 sugars in your coffee . Today is your first ever day off .

*Samuel Thanatos, code name: The Grim Reaper. * 
 
 Also known as Reaper 37 to the upper management of Life Industries. Reaper 37 is best known for his work on Yahweh 88; a small, back galaxy planet seventeen sectors south of Rectus-6 and twelve sectors east of the rather inspiring planet Ticklevania-22. But when I say he is *best known, * what I really mean to say is that that it has been his only role since Yahweh Research & Development Inc resigned the deal with Life Industries and created Yahweh 88. 
 
 That's all Samuel is to the management; a slightly under-achieving bottomless money pot pruner. Fortunately for Samuel, no one seems to want to take the reins of Life and Death at Yahweh 88, and Life Industries has no plans to loosen the deal on any local system as they are the only company in town. Did I say town? I meant Galaxy... That's right, Galaxy. 
 
 You see, Life Industries takes pride in running a rather money-grubbing monopoly, racking up Life Policies and Management Contracts into the Quadrillions of Credits because they can. This fact makes no difference to Samuel, because Samuel knows no better, and has no need to care any better. 
 
 Samuel is a rather timid creature. His daily routine always starts by sipping on average four cups of Interstellar coffee whilst reading the daily Reaping Reports at his tiny little wooden desk. Never ask a Reaper how many sugars they have in their coffee by the way; it can be mistaken as an assassination attempt and you'd find yourself wandering the Halls of the Dead quicker than you can say four sugars is way too much. With sugar and caffeine running through his body, Samuel, with a crooked wave and a smile so awkward it would make your aunt's kisses feel like roses, asks the control room, a big, shiny glass box overlooking the main work floor, to begin preparations to start Yahweh 88's time clock. 
 
 Never ask about time whilst visiting Life Industries, or any company in this business for that matter. It is n't so much the secrecy of the monstrously ridiculous calculations they use to distort and control the time of their sectors, it's more about respecting the Reapers and their work. How would you like to work 168 Earth Hours a week for a wage not that dissimilar to that spotty teenager you saw the other day asking if you wanted fries with your monster burger? I thought as much. But it's alright; the vacation time is good. 
 
 Well... Except for Samuel. Samuel has never taken a vacation, nor has he ever taken a day off for that matter. Samuel a workaholic. In this line of work, workaholics are a valuable asset to a major monopoly like Life Industries. Ask a workaholic if they ever considered what it would be like to sit at home for a day, and they'd work a curse on you so much you'd be a frog. It's a little different with Samuel, however, because Samuel has a rather large crush on Lady Keres; the next-door Reaper of Xenor-1, a planet contracted to Life Industries by a self-starter by the name of Xeno-Ja-Ja-Hiccle, pronounced `` See-no-tar-tar-sickle'' in the human tongue. 
 
 Keres had everything Samuel found attractive in a Reaper of his age. Hands of white gold, eyes darker than an eclipse on a drunken night out, and a face so sharp you could shave your beard on its sockets. What completed the whole circle for him though was how different she was to him, as if representing everything he ever wanted to be, but being so afraid of missing her, he could n't manage the thought of taking a day off else risk not seeing her. One could n't be sure why he worked on her days off though? One rumour was Keres was actually taking 4 days off, and taking advantage of Samuel. Another was that Samuel was so pathetic in his one-sided affair for her, he'd always think she'd come in either with fantastical story of how she always loved him, or just did overtime. She never did, and he never seemed to catch on. 
 
 Well, as you can imagine an employee not taking their days off or vacation always spells trouble, even for a mega corporation that lines the local politician's pockets so fat you would see him Reaping himself. So after a very long year, or about 1.4 Billion years in Earth time, the management of Samuel's sector calls him up to their office about the subject of *vacation. * 
 
 One thing to note about Samuel's managers is that in their past meetings with Samuel, they always seem to be preoccupied with the local Interstellar War, or testing out a new gadget sent down from R & D which never reached Samuel's hands. But today was very different, and to Samuel, they all seemed quite concerned about something. If only Samuel was n't so timid or such an introvert; he'd have seen the fact they were worried what might happen to Earth during his vacation as if the feeling was bounding between their sweaty, pink-skinned foreheads in plain sight. 
 
 `` You want me to take a vacation?'' Samuel asked, holding a flabbergasted emptiness after Madame Eris' extended delivery about his most recent performance review and how well he did with World War 3. 
 
 ``... Not just a vacation Samuel,'' Lord Jupiter corrected, rubbing his Corinthian watch like a sheltered addict, `` It's some much-deserved time off. You've done a fantastic job over the billion years of Yahweh-88 ’ s life, and the client is very impressed with your work. It's just - things are changing now. The Health and Safety Department is starting to come down on us about you, and local legislation about days off and holiday entitlement is changing.'' 
 
 `` But what I am supposed to do during this *vacation? * Who will look after Earth?'' Samuel asked, keeping his whine lower than a cat's howl as he contemplated the news. 
 
 `` So that ’ s what you call it… Well, *Earth* will be looked after Samuel,'' Jupiter said, `` It is going to be pretty silent for the next few years anyway, and the client does n't expect it to come back into a harvest forecast for at least a thousand years. Which is exactly the amount of time you will be taking off. As for what to do during this time, maybe ask one of the other Reapers?'' 
 
 `` But I do n't really know any that well...'' 
 
 `` That's not what I hear about your neighbour Samuel; why not go say hello before she leaves today?''
