How will you die?

[Ciuin]

After licking his entire skull collection clean, Mac caught a nasty cold. Having to blow his nose every few minutes and being especially lazy, the discarded tissues built up and flowed out of his room and into the kitchen. While he was cooking up some ramen, the tissue overflow fell on to the stove and set the house on fire. Mac was too tired to find his way out and burned to death. Then a bear came and ate the rest of him.

[MacPhantom]

Ciuin was wandering in the woods, picking mushrooms, when she met (oh no!) a bear! But it turned out that, despite all the horrible things she had been told, and all the bigoted views she held, that bears are actually very nice, very kind, very sweet creatures. Except for this one particular bear, which clawed her face off, tore her apart, and sucked the marrow from her bones. Then rats came and ate what was left.

[Miss Monster]

you beat me to it! I had a bear story too Mac, now you get to be in it

Mac was trying to train a grizzly for a circus sideshow, but was having problems. The bear was lazy, and wouldn't even stand up, let alone do tricks. In frustration Mac gave the bear some liquid LSD. It worked, but the bear (having never taken acid before) went on a rampage killing, twelve clowns and the elephant attendant. A lawsuit was filed, Mac was tried, found guilty and sentenced to death.. by dismemberment.

[MacPhantom]

Thank you for letting me die in piece(s)

Ms. Monster shouldn't have attempted to perform her evil surgeries on the day of the giant Vancouver earthquake. As the ground shook beneath her feet, she lost her grip on the bloody scalpel, which she caught blade first in her left eye. With a new lack of depth perception, she misjudged the location of the giant pit in the center of her operating room (where she swept all the chopped up bits when they piled up too high) and stumbled in, falling fifteen feet and breaking both her legs. Unable to climb up the gore-caked walls of the pit, she was forced to remain in there for the next two weeks, subsisting on the decaying bits of flesh of all her previous victims, until she died of Ptomaine poisoning.

[Castle]

This looks fun.
Mac was delighted with his recent purchase, a new black leather kilt. He stood in front of the mirror at his house for hours, speaking in foreign accents and acting as if the mirror was a window to an audience. He felt occasional slight twitches on the fabric, thinking nothing of it or assuming it was his phone in his pocket (do kilts have pockets?). After prancing about for hours upon the stage he built in his living room, the kilt finally had enough. The suddenly viscous material came to life and covered his body, mid-prance. Little had he known, the kilt dealer at the PranceFest 2010 had sold him a Symbiote, one that had taken the shape of a kilt to blend in with its surroundings. The parasite invaded his mind and took over. He immediately ran outside and began square dancing with himself in the street at a speed that would make Michael Flatley pee himself. A crowd gathered quickly, amazed at the strange man covered in oil's sweet moves. Word spread across the town about this amazing dancer. Soon enough news helicopters circled in the sky above the spectators. President Obama viewed the news coverage from his secret theater in the basement of the White House. Moved by such passion, Obama set out to meet this man in person. With a bottle of whiskey in hand, Obama pulled on his jet pack and rocketed toward the scene of wonder. Upon arriving in a large cloud of dust and debris being blown away by his rocket backpack, the crowd split and allowed him room to meet this man. "I want you to have this bottle of whiskey," Obama said, extending the bottle to Mac, "Your moves have moved me."
Mac glanced at the bottle. "It's not whiskey, it's WHISKY" he screamed, throwing clods of black ooze at the President. The Secret Service sprung into action, hailing bullets from seemingly everywhere toward the slimy threat.
Mac died covered in black stuff and suffering from multiple gunshot wounds.

[Miss Monster]

Oh Mac, you flatter me so! thanks for the best death yet

Castle was on his way to the boyscout meeting (not because he was a boy scout, but because he enjoyed watching the activities through the window) when a speeding car hopped the curb and ran him over. Aside from a flattened leg he felt ok, and continued on his way. Until he was attacked by a swarm of killer bees. Luckily he was immune to their poison, but he was still stung over 150 times on his face, chest and hands, giving him the appearance of a geeky teenage nerd with extreme acne and a club foot. Still, he persevered. Until a nearby tornado swept by and dropped a live moose on his head. It was too heavy to lift off of him so he had to eat his way out from under it. Finally, he was able to continue his journey, although with every alternate step he vomited raw moose and blood. When he was just a block away from the community center a dumptruck full of manure backed into him and doused him in it's filthy stinking load. He wasn't too bothered, and crossed the street to peer into the windows. The boys were learning about different kinds of knots, when they noticed, the stinky, disfigured horrible mutant (that was castle) lurking them, and hastened outside to tie him up. The kids went a little overboard, and Mac was accidentally asphyxiated.

[Castle]

Wow.

Suddenly feeling inspired by music, Miss Monster decides to put together a four-piece band. Local musicians wouldn't rehearse with her due to the nature of her practice, so she decided to teach some of her patients how to play instruments. During the soundcheck for their first show, Miss Monster shreded on her new guitar to get a feel for the sound. Her guitar tech, one of her patients, hadn't wound the strings correctly, causing the large G string to snap and impale itself through her left eye and brain cavity.

[Miss Monster]

haha nice! but what is it with you guys and poking out my eyes lol are they too creepy?

Castle was reanimated after his unfortunate incident with the boyscouts by a crazy psycho-surgeon. (with an even crazier rock band )
With his second chance at life, he thought only of revenge!
He hiked out to where the boyscouts were camping, armed with bear mace, a rocket launcher and a pack of (well trained) ferocious bloodhounds.
He spotted them after only a few hours, and sent his hounds in to tear them to pieces.
Unfortunately, boyscouts are always prepared and gave them the wieners they were roasting, which satisfied them and made them curl up next to the fire.
Frustrated, Castle sprang from the bushes spraying bear mace.
But he had it turned the wrong way and received a face full.
Gasping and blind he fell ontop of his rocket launcher which blew a whole right through him.
He died, while the boysouts played with their new pets

[Castle]

Miss Monster awakens in her bed to the sight of a man standing next to her who was entirely made out of eyeballs. He yelled "Can you SEE ME?" Sheer confusion from the situation rendered her speechless. He spoke again, "Can you SEE ME?? lol, Ya know, b'cause I'm a buncha eyeballs... get it?! SEE? Can you SEE?" With a quick, fluid motion, the eye man ripped out both of Miss Monster's eyes and tossed her body out the window into an ocean consisting wholly of eyeballs, to which she drowned from eyeball inhalation.

[Miss Monster]

that was really good!

Castle had a problem. He had a longing to star as Frank N Furter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show on broadway. He wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. He practiced night and day and wore high heels to work for weeks to learn how to strut. This was a problem for everyone he knew or met. They called him degrading names like "uphill gardener" and "chocolate spider rider". (His girlfriend left him after he failed to sustain an erect for the fourth night in a row). This made Castle angry. Amazingly, he nailed the audition and was offered the part. Castle was thrilled. Opening night he was strutting down the red carpet singing that he was a 'Sweet Transvestite' and feeling on top of the world, or Rocky. When an obnoxious drunk in the front row threw a hotdog that hit him in the face. Without hesitating, Castle pulled out the uzi under his velvet cape and blew the guy away. Instantly the drunks companions (members of the mob) rose and shot Castle twelve times in the chest. It's too bad his corset and garder belt wen't bulletproof.

[Corvus Kulde]

This is Fuc....this is great!

Castle awoke to the sound of intruders inside the perimeter of his 40 acre compound. A team of bagpipers sounded the call for Hell.. as if he wouldn't know who it was.
" Mac, you have finally come. Seeking a reckoning?" Castles post on the "how will you die" thread had been hilarious, but he thought the years had quieted his rage.
Intel had been scarce. All his contacts inside law enforcement were pulling there puds as usual. All they had been able to bring him was a 3 year old satellite photo of Macs "Training Center" in Maryland. "More like a damn cult.", he had often thought.

No matter. MacPhantom was ready to sing. " Let him come."

Castle reached for his usual load-out and found it waiting. No sooner had he readied himself the power flickered and then died. " Not bad, Mac.
the hum of the night vision goggles kept Castle company in the hallways of the inner sanctum. At least it distracted from the cacophony building outside.
"I ain't taking the spill today, Piper! Castle will not be routed by a Madman in a skirt!" , His cry went out on all speakers.
" Hear me, Mac? It's the parting glass, baby!", On the final syllable Castle flipped the toggle on the detonator he'd been holding. Thousands of pre-placed charges detonated almost instantly. The walls of the compound turned to powder in the face of such force. The pipers stopped...for a moment.
Castle had yet to realize he was now in the compounds sub-basement. The tangle of ferrocrete,steel, and wiring bound him in darkness. Before he could begin his own extrication the bagpipes sounded. The sound wracked him to the soul, and as the pain increased his mind filled with visions of the hundreds of monsters he had destroyed in his time. Just when Castle thought the pain would end him...it stopped.
"Hallo ,there.", a voice said cheerfully., " Hope you've been well, Castle."

" Go to hell you freak!"
" that's no way to talk to such an old friend. As for myself I bide fine. Life is funny, don't you think? i have been waiting a long time for this, Castle."
" I don't want to hear it, Mac. I jumped the gun...you got me. End it!"
MacPhantom was as happy as a Frenchman who'd just invented a pair of self removing trousers, "Very well. A little anti-climactic, but...", he raised his Claymore high, " Goodbye funnyman...

MacPhantom felt a tic inside his chest. It was only milliseconds before the microscopic device implanted in his chest registered his sense of intense satisfaction and detonated.
" Pay-back's a bitch, Mackey.", Miss Monster said from her vantage point atop one of the remaining pieces of superstructure.
All that remained of Mac (legs and kilt) took one step forward and fell on top of Castle.
he started to protest in disgust when, forgotten in the moment, Mac's Claymore descended from 3500 feet and speared him through the eye. ( There you go Miss Monster) Now pinned to the rubble that became his life Castle moved no more.
Miss monster look down on the scene with some thoughtfulness. Then, deciding it was hilarious, she howled like the ghost of a hyena....until she heard a click.....fin

[Castle]

Lol! That was quite awesome. Thank you for acknowledging the Punisher's long arm of vengeance. But as much of a surprise as it may be, I'm Scottish to the core as well. I take offense when kilts are referred to as "skirts". I just don't know if most of them have pockets.
And I own a claymore.

Corvus, feeling quite satisfied with his most recent entry to the "How will you die"? thread, leaned back in his chair, sighed a sigh of triumph, and lost himself in his thoughts.
"Maybe I'll grab a beer to celebrate my most awesome post," he thought. Rising from his computer chair, he felt a snag on his leg as he stepped forward. A snapping sound alerted him the the presence of a tripwire, one placed recently since he had been sitting at his desk. The power suddenly failed, shrouding him in darkness. To his left he noticed a faint glow, one that took the shape of a skull with four long teeth. "Clever," spoke a low, rough voice, "I'd clap for your performance if I weren't holding an M4 with both hands." A high-pitched whining sound whirred to life as a red laser beam appeared in the darkness, painting a small red dot on the surface of Corvus's shirt about chest level. "Yeah," A female voice spoke, "and what the hell was that part at the end? Left us kinda hanging." Corvus assumed the voices came from both sides of him, one against the wall to his left and one very close to his right. The lights flickered with the hum of power vibrating through the walls... a dark figure stood to his left at a distance and a white figure to his right, as he deducted.
"What.. you guys didn't find that funny?" Corvus asked, slowly raising him hands to his head in submission.
A painful sting swelled through Corvus's neck, causing his neck muscles to tense around the needle impaled through his flesh. "Relax," the soothing female voice spoke, "you'll feel nothing soon." Corvus's suddenly limp figure fell to its knees. A firm hand grasped his shoulder, securing his body in a sitting position with his torso leaning forward slightly. "I almost don't have the heart to do this. We're from the same neighborhood, after all." spoke the male voice.
The TV in front of them suddenly came to life, blinding the three in the room used to the darkness.
"...but they will never take... OUR FREEDOM!!" erupted from the TV's speakers. "Oh for f**k's sake, seriously?" spoke Castle, Corvus guessed, to his left. Miss Monster staggered back, dropping her syringe. "No...no, not him..." she whimpered.
"AYE!" came billowing from the doorway, "It is meh! Perhops ya dun fair-got aboot meh?"
Castle's M4 sprang to life, destroying the TV in a barrage of bullets and sprinkling the walls with sparks in his fit of fear-driven rage.
A great tremor shook the ground as forces collided in the darkness, causing the initial power outage to spring back to life. There Mac was, clad in his Scottish highlander's warrior dress complete with his family's tartan design in his kilt, holding the massive claymore that was now lodged through Corvus's ribcage.
"Aw shite, then! I missed me targets!" yelled Mac.

[Miss Monster]

Corvus you skipped me. I want to die too!

[Corvus Kulde]

That was fuuking awesome! "It is meh! Perhops ya dun fair-got aboot meh?"
Technically you bought it at the end Miss, but I'll come up with something tonight.

[MacPhantom]

I take offense when kilts are referred to as "skirts". I just don't know if most of them have pockets.

Traditional kilts do not. A sporran, which is like a pouch, is worn instead. But many modernized kilts (pioneered especially by Utilikilts, who everyone else pretty much ripped off) frequently do have pockets. I've got a traditional wool kilt, without pockets, and a Practikilt (a cheap Utilikilt knockoff) with pockets. What I don't have is a cell phone.



Corvus Kulde was excited and in a hurry. He was on his way to the local casting office, where he was all set to audition for the role of Simon Pegg's little brother in the Shaun of the Dead sequel! He was moving so quickly, he barely noticed Castle's body lying in the gutter, breathing it's last breaths from Tuberculosis-ridden lungs. In fact, Corvus was so happy, he started skipping like a schoolgirl (and giggling like one too)!

When he arrived at the office, he was delighted to meet, in the flesh, Mr. Simon Pegg, AND Mr. Nick Frost, with whom he'd be reading lines.

"Right," said Pegg, "Now, in this scene, what happens is, you fall asleep on the couch, and Zombie Ed accidentally sits on your face. So let's give it a go!"

Reluctantly, Corvus stretched out on the couch, but he jumped up when he noticed Nick Frost unbuckling his belt. "Hey, what the hell?!?" he cried. "Why are you taking off your pants?!?"

"Well, Zombie Ed doesn't wear trousers, does he?" asked Frost, in a tone that clearly suggested the level of unprofessionalism coming from Corvus was quite unacceptable.

Corvus, who didn't want his chance to make it big in the British film industry to go out the window, decided to just go with the flow. So he reluctantly laid back down on the couch, while Frost got naked from the waist down. The last thing Corvus Kulde saw was Nick Frost's huge, white, hairy, poorly-wiped buttcheeks descending towards his face, and then the blackness and stench consumed him. He writhed and flopped under Frost's enormous bottom, but it was to no avail. Trying desperately to fill his collapsing lungs with air, Corvus succeeded only in swallowing a noxious cloud of fart-gas, as Nick Frost, still in character as Zombie Ed, let rip a shattering blast that rattled the windows and set off car alarms on the street outside. After an agonizing ninety seconds that seemed to last an eternity, Corvus Kulde died.

He did not get the part.