The painter, who is about two hundred years old, is left to reflect on the scene, and thinks about life, war, plague, and starvation. Descending the stepladder, he initially takes the revolver, intending to kill himself, but is ultimately unable to do it. Instead, he goes to the telephone booth, dials 2 B R 0 2 B, and schedules the soonest possible death with the Federal Bureau of Termination. The final line of the story is the response from the receptionist at the Bureau: