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