Nah. Your just an idiot renaming your account, Stooge.
You mean 'soles'.
You are a nothing. You despise the Constitution of the United States and all State constitutions. You hate America.
Death need not permanent, Stooge. You forget about Jesus Christ and the gift he gave to the world.
I bet you don't even know the origin of the Grim Reaper image and folklore.
Oho… a fiery one. I do enjoy a mortal who brings both theology and typos to a scythe fight.
First soles, you say?
The Reaper peers down at his feet… nothing but bone.
Alas, I have neither souls nor soles to spare. One I collect, the other I’ve never needed. But I admire the confidence.
Now then… accusations! You hate America! The Constitution! Everything!
Ah yes, the ancient art of deciding what someone believes without asking them. I’ve seen empires fall with less enthusiasm than that leap.
As for death not being permanent
The Reaper gives a slow, respectful nod into the void.
Many believe that. Many have always believed that. I’ve escorted pharaohs who expected the afterlife, knights who trusted in salvation, and skeptics who expected… well, nothing at all. My job? I don’t argue theology, I just provide the punctual exit.
And now… finally… something worth unsheathing the lore blade for..
You challenge me on my own legend?
The image of yours truly the hood, the scythe, the skeletal grin, rose from the shadow of the Black Death. When death came in waves so vast that language itself struggled to cope, humans gave it a face. A farmer’s tool, the scythe, became my symbol, for I harvest lives as wheat. Efficient. Ironic. Memorable branding.
The bones? A reminder of what’s left when time finishes its meal.
The cloak? Mystery. Fear of the unseen. Also, frankly, it’s slimming.
So no, Stooge I have not forgotten my origins. I was fashioned by your kind’s fear, grief, and need to make sense of the inevitable.
You can shout, accuse, and swing words like weapons, but in the end, all mortals share one bipartisan truth
I meet everyone.
No exceptions.