“Lemme guess- That one’s yours,” Dominic said pointing to a matte black motorcycle in the diner parking lot. Even though it was parked under a bright street lamp, it seemed to absorb the light in favor of reflecting it. There were skeletal motifs etched into the body and the license plate read “REAPER”. Death smiled sheepishly. “What gave it away?” He mounted the bike and held out a helmet that Dominic didn’t see before. When he didn’t move, Death patted the seat behind him. “She’s not gonna bite.” Dominic took the helmet and slipped it over his head. “She?” Death shrugged, “Seemed right.” With a roar, the bike came to life under him. “Don’t worry, I’ve been driving a bike for over fifty years. You’re safe with me, despite my middle name.” Dominic thought about it for a bit. “Grim?” He shouted over the bike’s angry growls. The grim reaper? “Pasquel!” Death shouted back.