Dead Like Me2003

George:
[George was supposed to reap her first soul, a little girl] If you want her to die so bad, *you* do it!

Rube:
[angrily] I can't, no one can except you. Death is non-transferable, she's *your* mark. Only you can do the deed.

George:
Well then, barring any unforeseen accidents, I'd say she has another eighty years.

Rube:
Yeah, well you believe me, that's eighty years she doesn't want.

George:
What is that supposed to mean?

Rube:
Her fate was sealed the moment she got onto that train. Her soul expired. You know what happens when you keep a soul around after its time?

George:
No.

Rube:
Same thing happens to milk. It spoils, goes bad, souls go bad in all kinds of ways.

George:
But...

Rube:
[continues to speak in quiet anger] If you're having trouble comprehending the severity of the situation, why don't you consult Webster's on the definition of bad? If you don't take her soul, it's going to wither and die and rot inside her. I've seen it happen. Do you wish to condemn her to that?

George:
[crying] She's just a little girl. She can't die, it's cruel!

Rube:
[gently] It is cruel. It's cruel she won't know what life's really like. It's cruel that she'll miss out on so much love and pain and beauty, and that's sad for everyone in the world except for her. She won't give a rat's ass, she'll be doing something different. That's just the way it is.

George:
I... I just wanted to save her.