There once was a man, a very rich man, who lived long with his wealth upon the land, sustaining himself with vitamin regimens and supplements. But these could not give him the length of days he desired, so he began whole blood transfers, gene therapy, and ingested a mélange of pharmaceutical troches. He was injected by his private doctors with Razal Gel and altered carbon cortical stacks.
And still he thought, “What am I to do? I have not lived long enough.” Then he said, “This is what I will do, I will begin the viral blast treatments and buy black market to replace my worn out parts. RNA resourcing, applied Phlebotinum routines, and Nano-filament rejuvenation are not enough. I will drink the lachrymose essence of the grimalkin youngling and I will live. And I will say to my soul: ‘Soul, you have plenty of life for days and weeks and months and years to come.’”
But Death, who comes to all, stood near and said, “Fool! This very night I come for you. What will you do then?”