You admire the view from the rooftop when suddenly an earthquake makes the building collapse. You are...somehow not dead. Never mind a random guy kills you with a video game case. You are dead.

I am standing in my room with a gun to my head.

You don't read an e-mail in which a Hitman wants to kill you if you don't do the Chicken Dance. You don't do it and now you're dead...

I am just sitting here in a room full of explosive with a sparkler in my hand...

Thugs jump out, brandishing knives. They ask for your money, but you haven't got any. They ask for your wallet and phone, next, but you reply you also don't have any. They become desperate and ask for your shoes. You take them of to reveal holes in them and on your socks, too. They pity you and give you 20 dollars instead. You celebrate your escape by going to this posh restaurant. You eat some fish there.

Little did you know it was a fugu, or one of the poisonous puffer fishes alive. You go back home with diarrhoea, probably because the fish wasn't prepared right. You barf and vomit to your heart's content in the toilet bowl. You feel slightly sick and lie in bed.

Nightmares pester you the whole night. Suddenly, you wake up in cold sweat around midnight. You see a shadow of someone walking around your room, searching something. Luckily, you're licensed to hold firearms and immediately take out your gun from under your pillow. You shoot the intruder twice in the head, then go to sleep and decide to call the cops the next morning.

The next morning, your room reeks of corpse. It gets worse as you realise you actually pooped on the bed because of your diarrhoea. You also realise you didn't flush yesterday, resulting in this stench. Your intruder turns out to be a zombie, so you now experience the whole smell of a real 2 week corpse.

You get a nosebleed that drains all your blood. You die.

I am typing this long narrative.