<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffff00">Freddie wasn't even sure he was ready die, or if he was ready to move on to another place. Why did he have to die. As he listened to the man he ate slowly airing his thoughts out. “I was only 45 when I died. I had so much more to do. I could of write soooo much more. That is not fair! All I did was have a little fun. Just a little fun and look what happen to me.” Picking up the fork he shoved a peace of meat into his mouth to please the man. “If I am dead why do I need to eat?” Freddie said making the point again. <br/>
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“I am dead. Your drunk, when you sober up your going to see me for what I am… I silly looking singer who is as dead as a door nail. Don't do anything crazy till you sober up. Then you can wake up in the morning… look at me and decided weather you really want to complete your mission or not. Come morning you may not like what you see.” The little singing diva said as he played with his food a little not really needing to eat anymore. "We eat, we drink... we have a good time, we meet some people then we go to bed. Come morning you can complete your mission. Sound good?" </span>