Impy the imp (whose parents weren’t very imaginative) was depressed, because he was dying.
He considered throwing himself into the lake of fire, but he was too depressed to do it.
Hell is Hell, as the other imps said.
Things can get pretty bleak when you’re looking at imp-ending death.
She was trimming her herb garden, busily pulling out all the weeds, removing the diseased or dying parts of otherwise viable plants.
Some varieties of herbs she’d planted were proliferating more than expected, stifling others.
That wouldn’t do.
“What’cha doin’ ?” asked her neighbor.
“Oh, right now, I’m just killing thyme.”