[ WP ] There is no singular Grim Reaper . When someone dies , there are dozens of people they talk to : one tells them what happened to them , one explains the afterlife , one judges them , etc . You are the second person they speak with .

*God, I hate this job*. My mind wandered as I got a rare moment of peace in my small, drab office. The decor was non-existent, but when you ’ re the second stage of death, you don ’ t get much in the way of sponsorship deals or mainstream popularity, hell, even the guy with a dog face weighing peoples hearts on a My First Science Lab © set of scales gets a better amount of publicity than you. No, I just get this little office while big ol ’ Grim goes out with his fancy gardening equipment and becomes the face of death itself. No love for the guy doing all the paperwork, stuck in his office that doesn ’ t even have one of those neat little desk toys with the balls on string- bzzt! - Out of nowhere, a loud mechanical buzzing sounds and I jump to attention, my best Pan Am smile plastered across my face. “ Welcome to the Afterlife! I hope you had a pleasant journey with Charon! ” Chatting with the most fake enthusiasm I could muster, I indicated a chair and watched as the latest deceased sat down in front of me. An old bloke, dressed in a hospital gown and sporting white hair and the classic thick black framed glasses, which seemed to do nothing by the way he squinted at everything. 
 
 “ I believe that you would have been brought up to speed on what ’ s going on? ” I inquired, still sporting my inane grin. “ WHAT? WASSAT? ” The old man screwed up his face in concentration and turned his head towards me, cupping his ear. *Oh, fantastic. Another deaf old geezer*. Barely suppressing a sigh, I raised my voice. “ Hello sir! I am here to help you find your friends and family as you move into the afterlife! ” I leaned forward in attempt to make myself clearer. The old man's already impressively contorted face dropped into a frown. “ You tryin ’ to get me into some sterile old rest home? I told you suits that I ’ m just fine by myself! ” Trying to not make a face reminiscent of the old man's own, I raised my voice again. “ Sir! This is not a rest home, you have died, and this is just another step- ” “ Of course I ’ m dead you daft bastard! The thin feller already told me about that! ” The old man shouted back, interrupting me. I rested my head in my hands, and counted to five. This was going to be another long one. 
 
 ( This was one of my first attempts at writing one of these! Criticism is appreciated: D )
