It's the way he's kind of hunkered over, like as if he were riding a Harley... maybe in his mind, he's already zooming down some windswept desert highway, a pair of leather aviator goggles on his face and road dust in his whiskers.
The specter of death turned out to be considerably less ominous than mideval texts had lead us to believe... not so much horns, smoke and booming laughter, but more fuzzy and huggable. It makes for a more peaceful transition to the afterlife.
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