hey, better to die with a smile on your face!
The smell kills you.
A date with a playboy centerfold.
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How will this kill me?
After the date, you enter your car for 3rd base. Unfortunately, there are three little problems with this.
1: You both tend to get waaaaaaay too rowdy.
2: The car is parked on top of a hill.
3: A massive oil truck just reached a stop light at the bottom of said hill.
You do the math.
Terminal AIDS.
Everything was going fine until you were handed a lit stick of dynamite stuck inside your high school diploma. Cut down in your prime, you don't live long enough to read the next day's headlines about how would-be school 'shoot-out-orrists' outwitted the school system's new precautions by hiding explosives in diplomas. Of course, this prediction of how a graduation would kill you gets me killed or jailed for giving young high schoolers ideas.
Or something.
A person that you're interested in and thing they might be interested in you but you're not sure. (Let's see how THAT will kill me…)
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