Unfortunately, this wickedly funny show has been cancelled by Bob Greenblatt(see Devil's Spawn)and unless something is done, one of the last great shows on TV will die.
The central troupe of undead consists of:
1. The plucky, though often apathetic, George (conked on the noggin by a flaming toilet seat - hurtling through the atmosphere at 200 mph from the Mir Space Station).
2. Mason, our dear lovable, half-wit, alcoholic, junkie. His accent makes ladies swoon . . . as does his signature scent (an unforgettable melange of Eau du Hangover and Alcoholicious).
3. Roxie, the rough, tough, bitter cop. She takes a certain delight in making sure that everyone adheres to the rules. And yes, she can kick your ass. And she'll look good while doing it.
4. The disarmingly ditzy Daisy. Hey, who hasn't she had sex with?
5. And, of course, Rube. Any group like this needs a level-headed, logic-minded, compassionate, sympathetic leader. Riiiiight. He maintains his control because, according to Mason, he "withholds the love". But as Rube points out, he can't withhold what he does not posess.
Dead Like Me, unfortunately, looks to be DOA (the slave of Satan, Bob Greenblatt, nixed a third season - presumably because of penis envy of the MGM lion). Sad, sad, sad.