George blinked when someone abruptly sat down across from her. This... was Death? Seriously? What, did you step off the cover of Gothic Weekly?
"Nice to meetcha, Didi," she replied with a smile that was as obviously fake as her tone was forced pleasant. "Wanna send me back home now? This place blows!"
And okay. Probably not the smartest thing George could say to this woman. Being. Whatever she was. But really, what did you say to Death when you met them face to face? And were already dead, of course. Because if you weren't already dead...
Actually, George wasn't sure what you were supposed to say to Death then, either. Not that she'd ever find out. Because she was dead. Had been for a while, and was clearly going to stay that way. She might've scowled at the thought, if a waitress hadn't approached and asked about her order.
"Yeah, I'll have a cup of coffee, two waffles, and a side of bacon. Extra crispy." And maybe a smile to go with it? What is it with people in the service industry? Smile, lady. I might be the best tipping customer you get all day. Which, would be sad, really, since I don't tip worth a shit, but you don't know that. Yet.