1 {scene: Head Death's desk}
1 Paris: Okay. I accept I'm dead. But isn't there anything I can do about it?
2 Head Death: I'M AFRAID NOT.
3 Paris: What about my crewmates? Can they really clone my body and transfer my mind from a detailed neurochemical scan of my brain?
4 Head Death: YOU KNOW, THAT SORT OF TECHNOLOGY REALLY MESSES UP OUR PAPERWORK.

I like the idea that the Deaths have paperwork to take care of.

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2014-11-21 Rerun commentary: It's a little known fact that the Deaths who go around collecting souls are merely the public face of Death. They are supported by a largely under-appreciated cadre of clerical staff who sit at vast banks of desks filling out and stamping the requisite paperwork. In handwritten Gothic blackletter script, naturally.

It was an enduring practice to print legal works in blackletter script even long after most other texts had moved to the more modern italic or Roman typefaces. So old books of well-established legal principles which are now accepted as well-founded and established are referred to as black letter laws.

The ranks of Death continue this fine tradition. Death is, if nothing else, heavy with tradition.