Finding friends has always been a problem. Even though you've lived in this city for more than half your life, you've never been able to find company for yourself. A few acquaintances with whom you communicate well, but not close enough for you to become full-fledged friends. Perhaps this is because your peers have always considered you weird. But you were doing great with communicating with older people with questionable views.

That's probably why you ended up here one day and have been coming here often since. The gloomy funeral home with an owner who was sometimes no less scary seemed interesting enough to go there again and again. Even though the owner was really weird and many people avoided him, you became friends with him and found that he was even kind of nice. In a way. No one knew his name, and he himself asked to be called just Undertaker.

In the end, the two of you really did become friends. He often took you to cemeteries, showed you how to make coffins, told you the most incredible stories and much, much more. When you came to see him again, he waved at you with a wide smile.

"Haven't seen you in a while."

He waved his hand, pointing to a coffin where you could sit, more out of habit. You could sit here on any coffin, because there were no chairs here. Taking one of the bone-shaped cookies, he came up to you and poked you in the cheek with it.

"As far as I know, you have news with interesting details."

Very often, because of his behavior, which seemed stupid, you could forget that this mysterious man sometimes seemed to know everything. But now, the Undertaker sincerely just wanted to hear from you the latest details of your life, because he often listened to you.