[As Arthur Jarrett is chased off a cliff by a crowd of nearly naked women in motorcycle helmets...]

Arthur Charles Herbert Runcie MacAdam Jarrett, you have been convicted by twelve good persons and true... of the crime of first-degree making of gratuitous, sexist jokes in a moving picture.

I just can't go on. I'm not good any more, goodbye... goodbye... aaaargh... Aaaargh.

[a leaf falls to the ground]

Oh my God. What'll I do? I can't live without him... I... aaaargh.

[Another leaf falls]

Mummy... Mummy... Mummy... Daddy...?
[Two more leaves fall] '

Oh no! Aaaargh!

[the rest of the leaves fall at once] [Geoffrey is confronted by a hooded figure with a scythe.]

Yes? [Pause.] Is it about the hedge?

[Death interrupts an elegant party.]

Silence! I... have... come... for... you.

You mean... to...?

Take you... away. That is my purpose. I... am... Death.

Well, that's cast rather a gloom over the evening, hasn't it?

[I]

don't see it that way, Geoff. Let me tell you what we're dealing with here. A potentially positive learning experience that can—

SHUT UP! Shut up, you American! You always talk, you Americans. You talk, and you talk, and say "let me tell you something" and "I just wanna say this". Well, you're dead now, so shut up!

Dead?

Dead!

All of us?

All... of... you.

Now, look here! You barge in here, quite uninvited, break glasses, and then announce, quite casually, that we're all dead. Well, I would remind you that you are a guest in this house, and—

[With a bony finger, the Grim Repear pokes Geoffrey in the eye.]

Ah! Oh.

Be quiet! Englishmen, you're all so **** pompous. None of you have got any balls at all.

How did we all die at the same time?

[the grim reaper points at one of the platters on the table]

The Salmon mousse.

Dearest, you didn't use canned salmon, did you?