“I don’t know about this.” Death rubbed his bony face in consternation.

“You have to move with the times, sir, really.”

“Yes, but this seems a bit too much. I mean, I ride a pale horse right? It says so in books and suchlike. I have appearances to keep up.”

“It’s the appearances we’re thinking of. Honestly, we really believe this will be good for your image. Imagine it: You’re a rebel without a cause, blazing a literal trail of death across the world, beholden to no one, a force of nature!”

“Why would I want to be a rebel without a cause? How would I know what to rebel against?”

“You’re a bright, er, skeleton, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“It is shiny.”

“Indeed. Very shiny.”

“What would we do with the horse? He’s a good old boy. He should be treated well.”

“Oh, we’ll find a good home for him. Some small girl somewhere will feed him sugar lumps until he’s fat.”

“I guess I could take it for a spin.”

“Very good, sir. Now, if I could interest you in some leathers. . .”