The room around him was littered with junk food packaging. Piles of them. Crumbs patterned his desk. His eyes were bloodshot red and his arms stiff, due to days of slim to none motion. His hair was a fury of strands and his soiled clothes unwashed for weeks, both reeked unpleasantly. His eyes have been glued to the illuminated computer screen and scorched. There was nothing he could do. He slouched in his chair all alone. Slowly extending his trembling finger, he succeeded in sliding an empty chip bag closer and searched its depths. Nothing.

Simple crumbs. He starved. His battery had been charging, but due to a large, red sauce stain, he was not aware. He didn’t know he could go as long as he wanted. Just one more, he repeated, just one more, as he clicked off onto a more captivating video. His finger snailed across the touchpad and finally pressed down. As he watched, his body seemed almost petrified only interrupted by occasional finger twitches and minimal blinks.
And as he sat there he did not notice the scythe resting patiently on his throat.