I'm fairly sure I did die once after jumping off a cliff. Presumably, I'll try something different this time around.
Now, if I'm getting a choice, I'd prefer to die after a delicious meal, accompanied by a fine wine, and with at least three much younger men in bed with me. In reality, however, I'll most likely be trampled to death by a runaway jumper as I'm attempting to dart across Broadway to catch a bus down to my dealership to collect my car after an inspection and tune-up.