The Grim Reaper looked like a dork in a living room

Was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and small shorts

Also had his glasses on while holding his scythe

Until he slid and fell down

"Why did this have to happen today?

Why did a bunch of teens have to play THAT game?

The game of Don't Stab Me With a Knife, Bro, stabbing each other brutally for fun?

Because all it causes is just a bunch of bodies

Lots and lots of bodies piled up on each other

Bleeding and whatnot, just uggggghhhhh!"

He got up and picked up his scythe

Walked around the teens and looked back at them

"Did one of their shirts say something?

Did it say 'Oh, Death can't kill me

It just makes me stronger'?

Oh yeah, I think it did"

The Grim Reaper sighed

He went into one of his pockets

Got out a small bag

He got it up to his mouth and blew it like a balloon

The bag got insanely big

He opened up the bag so it could have all the teens in it

He slowly brought the bag down on them

Putting them all in the bag

He grabbed the bag and wrapped it up

He put away his scythe

By snapping and opening a portal to Hell

Specifically, Death's room in his house in Hell

He threw his scythe away

Started walking to the portal

Carrying the bag against him

Dragging it across the floor

He looks back after getting close to the portal

"Gosh, I have to stop getting blood all over these hardware floors as it makes such a mess

He sighed and threw the bag to the portal

Looking at all the blood on the floor

He put his skeletal hands against his hip bone

He sighed again

While shaking his skull

"Why can't people just take me seriously, especially those dummies?"

“Or the guys who were bungee jumping over that cliff?

Those women who were skinny dipping in a poison-infested pond?

Or that weird guy who masturbated to death while he was looking at me?

Ugh, makes me shiver thinking about it,”

He is about to go to the portal

Until he gets suddenly transported to another place

He gets confused as he drops his mandible and scratches his skull

Scratching against a crack, letting a spider crawl out

He turns his skull over to see a dead couple on the beach

The beach where he celebrated his birthday

Looking at how the couple was naked and lying on top of each other

The woman on top of the man with her posterior on his face

The man under her, her mouth on his privates

Their mouths were full of a mix of very colorful stuff

He lowered his back and facepalmed his skull while bending down, getting his mandible

“Some people just don’t care enough about life and making good choices

To have a good life and avoid anything bad like me, Death

Only wanting to let poor impulses control them, wasting them

Until they’re wasted potential, wasted on poorly using their time doing random stuff like this

Treating me as if I'm just a bad dream like the boogeyman or Amber Heard

Full of what God knows in those mouths

The woman’s eyes are still open,

Making me think of her genuine soul

Ew, gross

I don’t want to think that humans

Most of them don’t even think that of themselves

I don’t know why I care so much about bringing their deceased selves to Hell

When even I think them not having to be there would make Hell more swell

But, hey, they exist here, all the time

Always impacting me, even making me somehow want to rhyme

Sure, they’re ignorant, impulsive, confused, horny, scared, hive-minded sheep that can really smell

But humans are better than Putin and Walt Disney, so, hey, what the Hell?”

But maybe they are better than I think

Maybe they are more swell

Maybe they could rise above a lowly sink

Or maybe I’m saying and feeling this because of this smell