Special Guest Blogger: Mayan God Ah Puch

The clattering of my bell-adorned collar, the distinct, pungent aroma of five-hundred-year-old expired cheese meets compost heap, i get it, you know i'm coming and you start rethinking your life choices, look for the nearest exit or even call for the priest but nothing is going to stop the inevitable when the God of Death is on your case.
Being me is a thankless job, there’s no Employee of the Month board in Xibalba, it's just  me, some rather judgmental owls, a few hairless dogs who think they own the place and a steady stream of souls who, for some strange reason, are never happy to see me.
I guess it's the whole burning of the soul thing but listen, it’s a process! If you want to get to the good stuff,the part where you actually get to go somewhere interesting, you have to be sexfoliated by being incinerated from the inside out.
Most gods are out there doing important things like ensuring the rain falls but I’m the one who shows up at the end of the party, shuts off the music, and demands that everyone stops drinking and dancing but i’m basically doing you a favor and all I get is a reputation for being the universe’s most antisocial roommate.
If you’re reading this, you’re probably still breathing and good for you, cherish it while you still live because eventually, you’re going to find yourself standing in front of me and wondering if the rumors about the fire are true and I’ll be there, bells jingling and ready to give you the most thorough cleansing of your existence so, please, for the love of the gods, try not to complain when I grab the matches as it really does make the whole process go much, much faster.