Bill was walking down the street when he ran into an old friend he hadn't seen for a while, so they went into a coffee shop to catch up.
"Did you hear that old Dave died the other day?" Bill asked. "What? But I just saw him last week! How did it happen?" "Well, he was coming around to my place when his car skidded on the stones out front, smashed through the fence, flipped into the air and he was hurled through the windscreen and straight through the upstairs bedroom window".
"Boy, poor old Dave. What a way to go".
"No, that didn't kill him. There he was, lying in broken glass on the bedroom floor, so he grabbed hold of the wardrobe door handle to pull himself up, and ended up tipping the whole thing over, fell right on top of him".
"Damn! Crushed to death!"

"No, that didn't kill him. He got to his feet, tripped on the loose glass, staggered out the bedroom door and straight down the stairs, taking the banisters with him. Ended up at the bottom of the stairs with a banister pole through his chest".
"Speared to death! My god!"
"No, that didn't kill him. He managed to stand up and go into the kitchen, slipped on the blood from his chest, fell forward, went straight through the glass oven door and ended up with his head in the roasting pan".
"So gassed to death!"
"No, that didn't kill him. He picked himself up and..."
"Wait a minute, after all that he still wasn't dead? How did he die then?" "I shot him". "You shot him??? Why???" "I had to... he was fucking wrecking the place!"