Feeling dead

"I’m dead," he moaned, lying dramatically in bed.

"No, you're not," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"I'm serious. My pulse is probably weak."

"It's not."

"Please tell my family I love them, and if I don't make it through the night, remember me as a hero."

She pulled the blanket over his shoulders. "Right, you'll be remembered as the only man ever killed by the common cold."