In Which Miss Alabama, 1961, Sings the Denial of Benefits Blues

Her husband, before his suicide, had not done the necessary
research regarding his life insurance policy, though Miss Alabama ’61 doesn’t think much research would’ve been required in order to arrive at what seemed to her an obvious conclusion: nobody who hangs themselves in the barn out back some Sunday morning is doing their policyholder any good. As was often his habit when he
was alive, her husband had not read over the fine print. If he had, he would’ve come across the stipulation for suicides that rendered the policy invalid. This is rather accurately referred to as a denial of benefits.
But what of the tumors metastasizing in his lungs, those blooming white blotches on the x-ray? “He cut to the chase,” Miss Alabama argued, sparing them both the displeasure and exhaustion of a death drawn-out. This line of reasoning was of little interest to the insurance representative, whose job it wasn’t to engage in such bargaining. “So what you’re saying is he should’ve waited it out, died slowly and expensively in the hospital-inelegantly, embarrassingly, all the dignity gone from him by the end? In this way, I would’ve received what you deem to be full benefits?” Ms. Alabama asked.
The insurance representative nodded yes, for this was exactly what she was saying.