On second thought, screw it. Give me one of everything on the to-go menu. Who cares if my shroud is a little snug. You only live once. In fact, maybe I should have Batali and Silverton create a special to-go tasting menu for me. That way I won’t miss out, and if I really like something, I can order it in my next life. And for my final request, bury me in the pizza box on top of that grease stain—my soulmate. Oh, and FYI: if I do end up on death row, it'll be because somebody took a bite of my funghi misti pizza. Hey, we all gotta go sometime.