[ WP ] You are functionally immortal : you can die but instantly come back to life . Over the many , many years you 've become jaded and bored , and now dying is the only thing that gives you any sort of rush anymore . You 're about to attempt your most elaborate and thrilling death yet .

Um, NSFW? 
 
 Final check before I take the step I ca n't undo. 
 
 Thick rope tightly bound around my ankles. Check. 
 
 Piano wire snare loose around my neck. Check. 
 
 Compressed gas container with timer, attached to a party horn, securely glued to my teeth. Check. 
 
 It all looked good, so it was time for the final step. I poured the large bottle of superglue into one hand and then quickly discarded the bottle. I rubbed my hands together vigorously, spreading it over my palms. I quickly pushed my hands against my face, covering my ears. 
 
 The dulling of the sound made this feel even more surreal. Was I really going through with it? A throwaway comment I'd read on bash.org almost 20 years ago, but here I was bringing it into reality - albeit with a little twist of my own... 
 
 The superglue was burning now, and the pain woke me from my daydreaming. Down below, the street was n't that busy, so I had to make sure I timed it right. A mother, pushing a stroller with two kids in passed underneath me. I knew I was sick, but I was n't *that* sick. 
 
 I waited until she had turned the corner before scanning the sidewalk again. Two skinheads came into view - the kind that looked like they did n't care about anyone. Perfect. Perhaps I could kill 2 birds with one stone. I laughed out loud at the literalness of that statement. 
 
 I flicked the timer switch on the gas canister in my mouth with my tongue, it turned on with a solid click. And then I jumped. 
 
 It was only a 3 second fall, but it felt longer. Everything came into focus. 20ft from the ground, the piano wire decapitated me. My super-glued hands ensured I would n't miss the spectacle to come. I knew I had a few seconds before unconsciousness kicked in. 
 
 A fraction of a second later, the rope attached to my feet snapped taut, leaving me hanging, 10ft from the ground, my head 18 inches below my neck, eye to eye with the skinheads, only a few feet away. 
 
 They stopped in their tracks, jaws dropped, shaking. They caught my eye and I managed to wink at them as consciousness began to fade. It was getting hard to see. I'd forgotten about the blood pumping out of my neck. Better plan for that next time, I mentally noted. 
 
 Just as things started to go black, the timer on the gas canister kicked in and the party horn blew a parting raspberry to my unwilling witnesses, unrolling and flapping listlessly in the air. 
 
 The softening of the raspberry matched my consciousness. This one had to be chalked up as a major win. 
 
 I think next time I'll check 4chan for inspiration. 
 

