"Oh, that's terrible." George did her very best to sound as upset and stunned. It came out strained because she was being stared at by a dead guy who was actually upset and a little stunned. She pointedly avoided going back to the bullet question. "So are you a doctor or something?"
Doctors were a pain in the ass, unless they had ambulences and traumatized old ladies who had just seen someone plowed down by a Porsche who's parking breaks had malfunctioned; or their brat grandchildren had replaced the candles on the family reunion cake with firescrackers and set someone's face on fire.
"I am dead!" Rodney's soul said, still sounding shocked and edging in on distraught. "Holy Shit! I'm a gh--"
"You know, you really say shit too much." George interrupted him. Doctor Helpful down the street couldn't hear them. She didn't know if anyone could; a reaper could be in a crowd of people, and never garner an odd look while conversing with a soul. "And yeah, you're dead. I'm dead, too, but that's between you and me. I took your soul when you tried to rob me so you wouldn't feel it when the daisies took you out."