It's a sad day for America. Heidi and Spencer are getting divorced, Brett Michaels may be replacing Simon on American Idol, and Gary Coleman died. This last death comes on the back of a wave of celebrity losses: Ronnie James Dio, Britney Murphy, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, John Travolta's dogs, the guy from the OxyClean infomercials.
If you were in the spotlight, having your life recorded by paparazzi at every step, how would you want to go? A quiet exit or out with a bang, what death would be a fitting end to your days of glamor and excess? What would you want written on your tombstone?
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I'm thinking the whole shabang.
I'm loaded up on ludes, with smeared lipstick, and doing 120 on the highway. (Well, my driver's doing 120. I haven't driven myself around since I made my first million.) Of course the car flips at least 5 times and explodes, but I make it out alive. Good thing I had all that Bloody Mary mix on hand to put out the flames.
I get to my concert just over an hour late but no one is pissed. They paid for a show and I'm going to give it to 'em. I ride an elephant up to the stage (totally necessary. The ludes are really kicking in by this point) and high-five my backup dancers.
I'm halfway through my 3rd song when I start swinging my microphone in circles by the cord, helicopter style. It's picking up speed but I get distracted when one of my fake eyelashes falls into my eye. Before I know it, the cord is wrapped around my neck and I die instantly. One newspaper reports that fans were seen scrambling for my eyeballs after they popped out like a scene from Total Recall.
As per my wishes, my servants have my headstone engraved with the lyrics from The Little Mermaid's "Part of Your World":
When's it my turn?
Wouldn't I love, love to explore that world up above?
Out of the sea
Wish I could be
Part of that world
backstory: i'm only famous because i was the supplier of drugs for the entire cast of high school musical 1, 2 AND 3. zac and vanessa got wind that their dirty little habit was going to be front page of US weekly so they rang me and we negotiated a settlement in order to clear their name. as soon as i got the money i went crazy -- hanging out at all the right spots, meeting all the right people and eventually getting the attention of one "high profile" celebrity. we get married w/i 72 hours of meeting each other and things are awesome until my sex tape featuring myself having relations with zac efron and vanessa hudgens surfaces. my husband divorces me but the media takes pity on me and ends up giving me my own reality show because i'm so goddamn charismatic.
death:
while shooting "king of hartz: season 6" and not finding true love in the previous seasons i am at an all-time low. between takes i'm nose diving into a mountain of different crushed up drugs, just trying to cope. at the final elimination ceremony, as i'm about to hand my potential husband his "king of hartz" card, i defecate myself, mutter "this is all your fault, busey" and die. did i forget to mention THIS CEREMONY IS LIVE?! well, it is. there was a huge commotion about my death being seen by the hundreds of people watching the finale and it ended up never airing again. if you search "reality star dies on show" my video is the third one that shows up.
alas, my tombstone:
http://snsimages.tribune.com/media/photo/2009-06/47425111.jpg
UPDATE: In the 20 hours since this question was posted, Dennis Hopper also died.
I would like to die in some sort of fashion disaster. Like I'm a celebrity with a closet full of 800+ pairs of designer shoes. And in climbing the ladder to get to get to my cherry red Louboutin platforms on the top shelf, I slip and fall to the ground, empaling my heart with the black patent stiletto heel of a vintage Charles Jourdan, killing me instantly.
No matter how epic my performances in my dramatic starring roles may have been, everyone will remember me as the shoe girl. And the news will keep my death from being in vain by preaching the importance of proper closet organization.
I'm thinking heroic accident like saving a baby squirell fro traffic. Then I go into a 3 day coma (just long enough to allow my friends to plan me a killer ( no pun intended) funeral/party. Then i will wake up just long enough to make all my loved ones make death bed promises to me (I.e. "promise me you will never change kid" or "please don't barf on my casket at the funeral") and then I will go out in a Long slow going into the light style while you all cy your faces off.
UPDATE: The woman who played Blanche Devereaux on Golden Girls just called it quits.
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