Congratulations on Your Spectacular Demise!

Today is going to culminate in the single greatest accomplishment of your life: your death. This might sound kind of depressing, but it’s really not.

It will all start when you wake up at 10 AM. Your cell phone will be ringing. You’ll check the caller ID and it will be your father. You haven’t spoken to him in months, not since your mother died and the two of you spiraled into depression and closed yourselves off from the rest of the world. You’ll answer the call and the first thing you’ll hear will be his breathing, heavy and panicked.

“Christ, they’ve got me. They said they’ll kill me if you don’t come. They want the case. Son, I need your –“

His voice will cut off with a grunt and a few curse words in what sounds like Mandarin. Then a man with a thick Chinese accent will come on the line.

“We have your father. Bring the stones to the Accelerated Shipping warehouse at the waterfront. Come alone.”

He’ll hang up and you’ll sit there for three minutes in your underwear, just processing what’s happened. Then you’ll slip into your three year old Pumas, grab your keys and head out to your car to drive to your father’s house. Once you get there you’ll dig up his old Colt 1911 from the shoebox in his bedroom closet, then go into the basement to the loose floorboard. You’ll pry it up with the claw end of a hammer and the briefcase will be sitting there.

Your dad had had that briefcase in the basement ever since you were in high school, but he never talked about it. The only reason you even knew was because you and your brother had dug it up one night after you’d gotten into your dad’s whiskey. You won’t even open it when you find it, you’ll just pick it up and lock your dad’s front door on your way out.

On the way to the warehouse district you’ll obey all the speed limits and traffic laws. You’ll park a few blocks away from the address, far enough so you can walk and get your bearings on your way in but not so far that you’ll tire yourself out. When you get to the warehouse a pair of Chinese mercenaries will be outside, clutching assault rifles. They’ll be unalert, conversing with one another. They’ll never hear you coming.

You’ll shoot one of them in the face and then other in the leg after yelling “Supplies!” It was a little racist but the joke was pretty great, we have to admit. After that you’ll grab the survivor by the neck and walk him into the warehouse with the case in his hands.

When you step on to the warehouse floor there will be five more mercenaries surrounding your father. They’ll also have John from accounting at your old job. He and your dad will both be pretty badly beaten. When they see you John will start sobbing.

“I’m sorry. They said it was for a surprise party. We were all worried about you.” One of the mercenaries will smash his rifle into the back of John’s skull and he’ll tumble to the floor, still weeping. The mercenary who hit him will step forward and speak.

“You have the case?” He’ll pose dramatically, gun at his hip like an action star.

“I’ve got your god damn case,” you’ll reply.

The leader will nod his head and two of the mercenaries will walk forward, one holding your father and John, the other with his gun pointed at you. When they reach you the armed one will take the case and the other will deposit the hostages with you. They’ll walk back carefully, still facing you.

The leader will stride forward and meet the guard halfway, where he’ll open the case to inspect it. His eyes will go wide immediately, and he’ll say something in Mandarin you don’t understand. That will be your cue to shoot the case, causing it to erupt in a fiery explosion that will race towards you.

The explosion will knock you back off your feet, sending you flying with your hostage and ripping the gun from your hand. Most of the mercenaries will be caught in the blast as well, but one of them will still be standing when the smoke clears. He’ll pick up his rifle and shoot you twice in the chest through the body of the man you were using as a human shield. It’ll hurt, a lot.

Luckily your dad will be right there with his pistol in hand and he’ll put down that son of a bitch with one well placed bullet. But it will be too late for you. Your dad and John will both rush over to your side and roll the corpse off your chest. Your dad will hold your hand and look you in the eyes.

“Son,” he’ll say, “Son, I’m so sorry.”

You’ll put up a palm weakly. “It’s alright, pa. I just wanted you to be proud of me.”

He’ll hug you. It’ll make your gunshot wounds hurt a little more, but it’ll be worth it. You haven’t been hugged since Kim left you for your cousin nine months ago.

Your father will speak to you, tears welling in his eyes, one last time.

“Tell your mother I,” he’ll start, but you’ll shake your head at him.

“She already knows.” Then you’ll smile and die.

Totally awesome, right? Congratulations on your spectacular demise, man. We should all be so lucky.