...he knows he doesn't have much time left. His wife is in the kitchen, his daughter at his bedside. His wife is baking, and with what little senses he has left, he can smell she's making apple pie. He asks his daughter, "Do you think you can do me one last favor?"
"Anything," she responds.
"Do you think you could see if your mother could give me a slice of her apple pie?" he asks.
She says she'll see what she can do, and walks out. She comes in not two minutes later and says, "sorry, the apple pie is for the funeral."
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