Have we a choice, Mr. Black?

John F. Black, Esq.:
[who has just awakened from a cataleptic trance in the mortuary basement]
Mr. Trumbull... this man... what - - what am I doing here? Waldo Trumbull:
[who has recovered from his shock]
Well, you're here because you're dead, Mr. Black. John F. Black, Esq.:
The hell I am! Waldo Trumbull:
Oh yes you are. Everybody else knows you're dead, Mr. Black, except apparently you. John F. Black, Esq.:
What jiggery-pokery is this? Waldo Trumbull:
Not jiggery-pokery, Mr. Black... Hinchley and Trumbull, Funeral Parlor. John F. Black, Esq.:
[realizing what Trumbull means]
You wouldn't dare! Waldo Trumbull:
[pause, then]
Have we a choice, Mr. Black?