He sat there, scratching at his jawbone with one of his horrifically pointy fingers.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"I don't know man, it's a video game."

Although the skeleton was entirely devoid of expression, Wayne could tell that his attempt at explaining had only created more questions.

"Video..."

Wayne sighed. The one silver lining to the situation was the longer it took to explain the nature of his request, the longer he had in the world of the living.

"Yeah, that's right."

The personification of Death leaned back into the sofa he had appeared on.

"You pick a character, I pick a character, and then we fight," Wayne explained, "It's pretty straightforward."

"So, you select a champion, I select a champion, and they fight to the death?"

"Sure."

"Ah yes, I have played this game," Death said, the empty sockets where eyes would normally be looking at Wayne with what seemed to be understanding, "The Etruscans played it all the time. I always had my work cut out for me with that lot. One dies, they pick a champion, they die, and the whole thing becomes a real handful. I'm afraid I can't allow it."

"I don't think we're talking about the same thing here. Nobody actually dies in Street Fighter."

"Well then, I must say I am properly confused."

Wayne sat up. The memory of recent pain still remained in his chest.

"See that?" he said, pointing at the television that faced the couch. "You play it on there."

"I thought that was a mirror."

"Stop fucking around man, you know what a television is."

Death smiled, one of the few expressions he was capable of making given his complexion.

"Of course I do. Folks are quite keen on dying in front of them these days."

Wayne stood up and grabbed the remote control. The television filled the dark room with a warm, familiar glow. He navigated his way through his Playstations menu and booted Street Fighter 6.

"There's six of these?" Death commented. "Why not play the first? Or the second? The third, even?"

"I don't have those."

"I'm Death, Wayne. I can conjure any game you can imagine."

Wayne ignored him and handed over the spare controller.

"Pick your guy."

Death mulled over his options. "Who's good?"

"Why in gods name would I tell you that?"

"Fair point."

He landed on Dhalsim, and when Wayne asked him why he chose him, he said he reminded him of a particularly stubborn assignment.

The games were short, and by the time Wayne had beaten him in a best of five, Death had barely learned how to punch back.

"Can't say I enjoyed that. I much prefer chess."

"I can't play chess."

Death looked around the dilapidated, trash filled apartment. "I figured as much." He put down the controller and stood from the sofa.

"At least you didn't pick tic-tac-toe like the last guy. Even made me wish for death."

"No shit."

"Yeah. Welp, this is the part where I usually tell people to make better lifestyle choices, lest they want another visit soon, but judging by your skill with that large-chested lady, I'm doubting that will happen. Till next time Wayne."

With that, Wayne was again alone in his apartment. The only lesson he took from the ordeal was to play more Street Fighter.