Choose your battles

He threw himself from the roof, picking a fight with the corner of the lower building and losing immediately, his headbutt not devastating the brickwork as he had hoped but in fact breaking his own skull open, though the snapping of his neck meant that he only had a fraction of a second to contemplate it, and no consciousness left by the time he hit the floor in a contorted mess and expired with his arse above his open gob and, you know it, a turd emitting languidly from one into the other.

A woman scorned

So intense was her hatred for him that she was prepared to sacrifice her own life, sprinting headlong and rugby tackling him, his drink and another unfortunate lady over the edge and down for a good eight seconds before they both splattered satisfyingly on the concrete while the other lady devastated a Lamborghini and the drink smashed all over a Reliant Robin.