““How did it go?” “How did what go?” “Reaping,” I whispered. He shrugged. “Same as usual. ‘But I can’t be dead,’” he said in a falsetto voice. “‘You most definitely are dead, but you’re lucky because I’m taking you to Fólkvangr, where you’ll live in the lap of luxury for thousands of years until the big battle at the end of the world,’” he added in his normal voice. “‘Can I say goodbye to my parents?’” he added again in a high-pitch. “‘Uh, they can’t see you, stupid. You’re dead,’” he finished, reverting into his regular voice again. He shook his head. “Idiots.””
