[ WP ] You tell Death that you will never tire of living no matter how long you live . It makes you a bet that you will and thus grants you true immortality . You 've just lived through the second death of the universe and show no sign of stopping . Death is baffled .

I had just succeeded at my greatest shenanigan of all time, creating a black hole with enough force behind it to instantly devour the universe. Good old CERN had done the leg work, but I did provide the theories to efficiently create antimatter, of which they immediately created so much that it annihilated existence itself, except for Death, God, and me. 
 
 Well, as I stood in the middle of nothing, Death appeared behind me, sweat pouring down his cheeks. He was livid, I was on the verge of laughter. 
 
 `` You asshole! I just had to reap 16 quintillion souls in an instant because of you. 
 
 I responded by mentioning that I did n't know that there were that many sentient beings in the universe. 
 
 Of course, by now he was right at the edge of lashing out, I'd just given him the biggest workload ever issued to anyone, even God, and it happened randomly. 
 
 He bore his scythe, such a cliched instrument, and slashed me across the chest, cutting me in half. My body instantly rejoined, I had n't bored of life, so the bet was still active, and I was still immortal. It did help that I had convinced him to make me an absolute immortal rather than merely incapable of dying. 
 
 `` Fine, fine,'' I said lamenting my poor suit which now had a slash mark and blood stain across it. `` I'll make you a counter deal to our original wager. I'll take on the role of death, and you can partake of shenanigans for this next universe. I wager that your shenanigans ca n't end the universe itself and force me to reap more than 16 quintillion sentient beings in an instant. If I'm wrong, I will concede my immortality and you may finally reap me after all of these eons. If I'm right, I get to claim the title of Death and you will become my servant for the rest of all universes.'' 
 
 `` Very well,'' a less furious Death said through clenched teeth, `` you're on.'' 
 
 His scythe appeared in my hands as he took on the form of a young man of about six feet tall. 
 
 `` What will you call yourself?'' I asked. 
 
 `` Adam.'' Man, he always was one for the cliches I thought as I turned my scythe into two Desert Eagles.
