Two people are on stage, walking along. One of them suddenly doubles over in pain.

Robert: Gary! What's wrong?

Gary: A snake bit me! There!

Robert: Oh no, it's a Tiger snake - they're really poisonous. Quickly now, lie down. I'll get you the antidote.

Two lies down. One gets out the needle with the antidote and is about to inject him when One pauses (Two is still moving, but fairly slowly). A smoke machine would be awesome at this point, as death enters.

Death: Gary, you must not take the injection!

Gary: Why not?

Death: It will kill you...

Gary: But...

Death: ...in 68 years.

Gary: I'll be 90!

Death: Yes, but you'll still die.

Gary: So how will taking the antidote kill me exactly?

Death: You will die in your sleep... of heart failure.

Gary: And?

Death: You will be having a rather boring dream at the time.

Gary: So what's the... (problem?)

Death: Between now and then, you will suffer a terrible affliction known to us as life. You will have a middle-class job and have moderate success. You will marry a woman of average attractiveness, have 2.4 children, a dog, 2 cats and a turtle. And you will eat solids, drink liquids and breathe gases..

Gary: No, no! I can't! I can't!

The Scene unpauses, and Gary grabs the needle from Robert and throws it away. He slowly dies.

One: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! (possibly Nooo! Gary! Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!)

The scene pauses again.

Death: Robert, you must poke the snake with a stick!
(alt) Don't worry dear Robert, you'll be reunited soon enough.