You're wife and some other guy are lying naked in your bed, having just ceased making passionate love. You attempt to kill him with your bare hands but just get thrown out the window into the road. The thugs with your car are waiting for you there, with clubs. As they are reigning blows down upon you out the corner of your eye you see an ambulance speeding towards the scene. You sigh with relief (as much as you can sigh with relief with someone's fist in your mouth) at the prospect of a warm hospital bed. Unfortunately for you the ambulance is driven by Hans Moleman who doesn't see you and runs you over. You die. You spend the rest of eternity being laughed at in hell for your petit crotchglass.
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