Death to Celebrities: "Death to Celebrities!"

Celebrities from Abe Vigoda to Dakota Fanning have been put on notice. 

“It’s time to die.”

So said Death in an exclusive interview with the Brown Spot.

I sat down with Death this afternoon for drinks at Rockit.  Dressed in a black robe and carrying his trademark scythe, Death certainly stood out in the sea of suits and sundresses at the trendy River North watering hole.  I asked Him about the recent rash of celebrity deaths.

“It all started last week with Ed McMahon,” Death said.  “I was surprised by how much attention I got.”

Death paused to watch a waitress walk by.

“It was kinda fun.”

Then Death reminisced about His murders later in the week.

“So I decided to grab Farrah and Jacko on the same afternoon,” said the Grim Reaper, referring to last week’s near-simultaneous deaths of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson.  “Man, people went nuts over that!”

I asked Death about Sunday’s slaying of famed pitchman Billy Mays.

“That was just to fuck with people.  McMahon was old, Farrah was sick, Michael was ka-ray-zay!  People understand that.  But Billy Mays?  He was just a regular dude.  Young guy.  Pretty healthy.  Who saw that coming?

“I guess you could say I oxi-cleaned his clock.”

The Great Equalizer chuckled for a few moments before composing himself.

“So after I knocked off Karl Malden the other day, it got me to thinking.  Why not kill them all?”

Celebrities?

“Yep.  They’ll all be dead soon,” Death said, spreading his bony hands wide.  “Every single one.  Michael Jordan.  Nicolas Sarkozy.  Paul Hogan.  By the end of July, there won’t be any famous people left.”

I pointed out that in this age of Facebook profiles, personal blogs, and thousands upon thousands of television stations spanning the globe, a significant amount of the world’s population could qualify as “famous.”

The Harvester of Souls lowered his cowl and stared at me hard from his eyeless sockets.

“And?”

An uncomfortable silence ensued.  Suddenly, Death was distracted by a group of excited businessmen at a nearby pool table.  One of them had just knocked in the 8-ball off the break.

“That’s awesome,” Death cheered.  “That never happens.”

Death got up to high-five the group and buy them a round of O-bombs before rejoining me at our table.

So why target celebrities?

“It’s good publicity,” He said.  “It keeps me in the public eye.”

As an eternal force unaffected by human concerns like money, power and fame, what does Death have to gain from keeping a high profile?

“Babes, I guess.  Chicks dig famous dudes.”