Hadn't you heard? Perl died more than 70 years ago in a freak accident. Someone spilled a gelatin dessert on a polished marble floor, and, well, the rest of the story is all camel guts and irritated janitorial staff, with some camel shrieking mixed in to ensure that no one who was there will ever forget it. Most of the witnesses to that horrid event had trouble with windy days for many years afterward due to the shrieking sound of the wind whistling in drain pipes, screen doors, and the like.
Those of us who write the stuff every day, well, we're just ghosts. We aren't really here at all. You're just like that kid who sees dead people in that insipid Bruce Willis movie, and we're all Bruce Willis... well, kinda. We're far more charming and most of us are better looking. You'd be better off learning not to see us than hanging around here feeling sorry for us just because we're too dumb to know we're dead.
Have a happy day, and be careful not to get dead like us. It's not that being dead is frightening or painful or anything, but when you're intangible you can't have black jelly beans and Jack Daniel's for breakfast any more, and by golly THAT SUCKS!
