Bring out yer dead

First Samantha, then Kirsten, followed by Felicity. Who is next? No one knows but some are fearful with the introduction of a Yellow Fever epidemic in 1853 New Orleans....

The Dead Collector: Bring out yer dead. 

(American Girl® puts a body on the cart.)

AG: Here's one. 

The Dead Collector: That'll be a half-dime.

Addy Walker™: I'm not dead.

The Dead Collector: What? 

AG: Nothing. There's your half-dime. 

Addy®: I'm not dead. 

The Dead Collector: 'Ere, she says she's not dead. 

AG: Yes she is. 

Addy®: I'm not. 

The Dead Collector: She isn't. 

AG: Well, she will be soon, she's very ill. 

Addy®: I'm getting better. 

AG: No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment. 

The Dead Collector: Well, I can't take her like that. It's against regulations. 

Addy®: I don't want to go on the cart.

AG: Oh, don't be such a baby. 

The Dead Collector: I can't take her.

Addy®: I feel fine.

AG: Oh, do me a favor.

The Dead Collector: I can't.

AG: Well, can you hang around for a couple of months? She won't be long.

The Dead Collector: I promised I'd be at the McIntire's®.

AG: Well, when's your next round?

The Dead Collector: Next year.

Addy®: I think I'll go for a walk.  

AG: You're not fooling anyone, you know. Isn't there anything you could do?

Addy®: I feel happy. I feel happy.

(The Dead Collector looks around furtively, then archives Addy® with a whack of his club.)

AG: Ah, thank you very much.

The Dead Collector: Not at all. See you next year.

AG: Right. 

With major apologies to American Girl, Addy, and 1975's Monty Python and the Holy Grail.