Michael: Eleanor? Come on in. Hi, Eleanor. I'm Michael. How are you today?
Eleanor: I'm great. Thanks for asking. Oh, one question. Where am I? Who are you? And what's going on?
Michael: Right, so, you, Eleanor Shellstrop, are dead. Your life on Earth has ended, and you are now in the next phase of your existence in the universe.
Eleanor: Cool. Cool. I have some questions.
Michael: Thought you might.
Eleanor: How did I die? I-I don't remember.
Michael: Yes, um, in cases of traumatic or embarrassing deaths, we erase the memory to allow for a peaceful transition. Are you sure you want to hear? [Eleanor nods] All right, so you were in a grocery store parking lot. You dropped a bottle of something called "Lonely Gal Margarita Mix for One." And when you bent down to pick it up, a long column of shopping carts that were being returned to the shopping cart collection area rolled out of control and plowed right into you.
Eleanor: Oof. That's how I died?
Michael: No, sorry, there's more. You were able to grab on to the front of the column of shopping carts, but it swept you right out into the street where you were struck and killed by a mobile billboard truck advertising an erectile dysfunction pill called "Engorge-ulate." Funnily enough, the first EMT to arrive was an ex-boyfriend of yours...
Eleanor: Okay, that's... I get it, thank you.
Michael: Oh, okay, sorry.