Maximus: I knew a man who once said death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.
Commodus: I wonder. Did your friend smile at his own death?
Maximus: You must know. He was your father.
Commodus: Oh, yes, well, you see, when I smothered the old boy, he was muttering a lot. He might have been saying "Commodus! Spare my life!" Or it could have been "Commodus! Do not indulge your incestuous desires for your sister!" Hell, for all I know, he might have been saying "Commodus, in a few years you're going to look like a homeless guy, abandon your career for a hoax rap career, and come off as crazy and self absorbed. Do you really want to make that mistake?" It was really hard to tell, you know. I wasn't paying that much attention.
~ from Gladiator: Director's Special Final Cut
Death comes to us all. In some cases, it's a disease, or an accident. In other cases, it's something else entirely. Such as when a Navy SEAL team breaks into your compound and sends you shuffling off that mortal coil.
We all hope that when we reach the end of our lives, it's nice and quietly in our sleep, just like Grandpa. Not screaming in terror like the passengers in his car.
This past week, '50s B-actress Yvette Vickers was found dead in her home (or they think it's her). The actress, who was best known for a role in Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, hadn't been seen since last summer. A neighbour discovered the body, which was in a mummified state. Officials believe it's been there at least several months, up to a year.
One wonders why anyone didn't notice earlier. There was mail in the mailbox, so one would assume the mailman might start to wonder just why the mail wasn't being picked up. They could have reported that to a supervisor, and the body could have been discovered much earlier.
One wonders why the neighbours didn't ask questions about her long absense. At the very least, why didn't they wonder about the long line of bugs, maggots, and other creepy crawlies heading towards the Vickers home on a regular basis? Didn't they notice the vultures burrowing through the roof?
It's a sad ending to a life. No friends to check up on her, no family, apparently. You hear from time to time about people in New York dying, and no one notices until the smell permeates out through the apartment building.
Rumor now has it that legendary schlockmeister director Roger Corman is prepping a script called Curse of the B-Movie Actress Mummy. Lindsay Lohan is tapped to star in the lead. Assuming she can stop snorting illegal substances off the backs of strippers.
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