Dark, but not quite for the reason one might suspect initially.

Morton had to smile as he leaned in to Sally. She sat there in the wheelchair, her wrinkled male hands gripping the sides in anger.

"What do you say now, Sally?' Morton asked. "What do you say, now that I'm in no danger of dying now?"

"You're a monster." She said, her voice soft, almost a whisper, but he could hear the venom in her voice. He stood back up fully and gave a laugh.

"Well, I would be if it weren't for what you did. I will admit, having my head transplanted onto your much younger body was wrong. You're what, twenty-four, same as your boyfriend here? Oh, did you did see him, or do you choose to ignore him? Do you even want to know why he's here?"

She had seen him, it was impossible not to, but she was so focused on her grandfather she hadn't gotten around to saying anything to her boyfriend. Now that her grandfather had called that out, she felt her blood go cold and Morton could see the growing fear on her face.

"Even he was disgusted with you and your planned 'accident' of me. You showed him your true self and when you went through with it, he was the one who helped arrange everything so you'd end up in that chair, not me."

"So, now I'm the one going to die." She said softly, realizing her defeat.

"Oh no, you're not!" Morton then said with a gleeful look. "You're not very good at murder, it turns out. You'll live, but now as an old man, confined to that chair while I live it up with your body. Speaking of which it is time to leave, I think. You know where the elevator is, we'll take the stairs. Not fun in heels, but better than sharing an elevator with you."

With that, Morton and her boyfriend walked away and she just sat there, weeping. Morton didn't care one bit. She did try to kill him to take her inheritance, after all.