Man consumes all he can. And then Death appears, fuming. ‘Why isn’t my harvest ready?’ he rages. ‘Why do I always have to wait?’
Disease overhears the complaint and creeps upon the man, mocking his rival. ‘Don’t be angry, old friend,’ he sneers. ‘I’ll take over from here.’
Disease ravages the man while Death stands by, lamenting. ‘How unfair. He is far weaker than I. Yet, his power lasts much longer.’
When Disease completes his work, he delivers the man to Death. ‘There’s nothing left for me here. I’m moving on.’
But glancing back, he observes the man trembling in the face of Death. ‘Why do you fear him more than me? After all, my punishment is far more severe and lasts much longer.’
Death smirks as he raises his sword. ‘Be not envious, old friend. It’s time you accept that you’re rarely the beginning and never the end.’