[A figure cloaked in a long, leather trenchcoat enters and moves close to the fire. Stretching his palms towards the flickering warmth, he turns very slightly towards you and speaks with sinister humor]
Vaat a pity you haaf problems mit continuity, Herr Death. Zat vill make zis so much more difficult for us both. Zees are times ven a vise man knows to keep his silence, you see.