While on his daily walk through Central Park to his little morgue shop on the corner of Fifth street, Finn happened to pass Mr. Jett, as he does every morning, headed to his clinic just behind Fifth off Sixth street. As he walked past, Finn just couldn't resist talking about his new customer. “Did you hear of Sir Rocco Zander's unfortunate accident this past week?” Finn practically yelled.

“Why yes I did, very unfortunate, very unfortunate. A shame he couldn't be helped,” Mr. Jett said in a mournful voice.

“Oh, on the contrary!” said a very enthusiastic Finn, “haven't had any accidents like this in ages it seems,” continued Finn.

“Yes, yes that is good, very good,” replied Mr. Jett uninterested.

“Not at all!” Finn spat back, “It makes the job very dull dressing all those customers with natural causes, but a bloody mess like poor Sir Zanders. Oh it gives me goose bumps just thinking about it,” shouted Finn with delight.

Horrified, Mr. Jett looked up, “What is the matter with you! Mr. Zander's body gave me goose bumps all right, but in a different manner entirely!”

“Nonsense, nonsense. Folk like you never can admit to taking pleasure in someone else's troubles” Finn jived.

Immediately Mr. Jett sternly replied, “Pleasure! Rocco's remains are splattered all along 14th and Park street! How could I possibly take pleasure it that!”

“Don't be silly, dear Mr. Jett. Sir Zander's remains are safely within my shop's welcoming grasp. And as for “splattered” I would say it more of a smushed texture like a---”

“STOP!” yelled Mr. Jett. “You must excuse me at once, but I cannot stand your company one second longer,” puffed Mr. Jett as he scurried off.

“Oh well” replied Finn, “He has a twisted sense of humor any way,” talking to himself now as he walked toward Sixth. On approaching Sixth Finn recognized Mr. Jett's rival clinic owner, Mr. Porter.
“Oh, Mr. Porter! Mr. Porter!” Finn exclaimed excitedly, “Did you hear of poor Sir Zander's terrible accident?” Finn continued with a smile as Porter turned toward him.