Mum: You still need to paint the house...
Me: Oh. I... I am so sorry Mum... (Starts to cry) I... I can not paint the house because I am dying.. I feel it coming mum. It's scratching at my soul, tearing me apart.. I. I don't want to go, mum. I'm.. I'm so scared. But... I... See... I see the light... It's coming closer. (Grips her shirt and falls on my knees, whispering.) Please, don't cry and my funeral... (Dramatically dies)
Mum: Okay. I want it done by the end of this week.
* Sabaism *