I was talking with a young child about life the other day. I do things like that. Legit though. Not in a creepy Michael Jackson way. And the kid asked me “What is dying like?”
I told him, “It’s terrible. The worst feeling you can imagine. There’s a big white light shining in your face and total silence.”
He asked, “Are there other people there? Your friends and family?”
I said, “More likely a room full of tired drunks. Unless it’s an open mic, then just other comics.”