“Death is the last word in matadors.” observed cartoonist Robert Osborne. You enter the plaza de toros, the bullring, involuntarily. The crowd cheers. They are on your side – your family and friends. Death needs no supporters. The picaderos, the lancers on horseback, work quickly. Here's a needle for the right arm, and one for the left, one in the leg -- in vain. The banderilloros, with their medical specialties, like little flags. They diagnose, they write prescriptions, they speak to the nurses. Death need no mozo de espada, no sword page. His sword is always at hand. Death has the last word. Death is the last word.