Date: March 2, 2023
Location: House of Steel, Miami, FL
Life as John Cook saw it, was one long obscene gesture. His adrenaline and serotonin levels were borderline maniac. Being the ultimate adrenaline junkie, Cook was always looking for the next fix.
Certain individuals, like Mr. Cook here often have lower baseline levels of arousal, prompting them to seek intense stimulation to feel 'normal' or engaged. They have a more active dopamine system, meaning risky activities trigger stronger reward responses in the brain.
John's main hustle of customized bikes and edgy metal sculptures brought him more than enough coin for his needs. What money didn't give him, his sweet and twisted Tess did. Tess walks up to John and turns him around. She pulls out a taser and sends 30,000 volts into his chest. The shock of the taser excited John, feeling of the current ripping throughout his body made him... weak to the knees.
Adrenaline, released during high-stress or exciting situations, heightens alertness, creating a powerful dopamine rush. Dopamine is our brain's reward chemical. Over time, some may become psychologically or behaviorally dependent on this rush, associating it with feelings of control, euphoria, or escape.
Cook wanted more bang for his buck. He wanted to go bigger, and Tess obliged.
Sitting right beside his welding machine, John is feeling his adrenaline pumping up as Tess begins attaching the welding machine to his stainless-steel ear piercings. All set, the tase tease begins, Tess turns the machine up, and John feels the electricity throughout his body. His muscles contracting, his heart palpitates, and his adrenaline was off the charts. But Tess would only take it so far, turning it up to only 130 volts. If John was really going to push his envelope, then he'd have to deliver it himself. He pushes Tess out of the way and cranks the machine all the way to max, 400 volts, and begins to fry.
As you might be asking, "If a 30,000 volt taser isn't lethal, why would a 400 volt welding machine be?" Read closely:
A taser is high in voltage but low in amps. It's like being hit with a pellet gun that hads been pumped a few dozen times; It hurts like hell, but the amount of stuff coming out isn't going to cause anything fatal. A 400-volt welding machine would be like being hit by a Tesla. It's moving much slower, but the amperage is so much higher that you, and John, will succumb to the electricity.
To anyone who knew John Cook, his death came as no shock.
Way To Die #504: Wel-dead
Date: July 23, 2010
Location: Roger's RV Park, Aberdeen, SD
Chuck had a simple dream. With Roxanne, he scored the love of his life. Then he struck silver with a 1952 Royal Spartenette trailer home. Before he could go mobile, he had to take care of his... trailer trash. After being neglected for decades, the trailer was in desperate need of cleaning. It's a dirty job, but not for Chuck. All he had to do was think about rolling down the highway with Roxanne by his side, and he was the happiest camper in a camper. A few hours after deep cleaning, Chuck is decorating the once trailer turned trailer home.
He hangs up a welcom sign and stands back to look at his work. "Perfect, just one more thing." Chuck proclaims as he walks to the bathroom. One more thing indeed, and it wasn't going to be pretty.
He begins plunging his toilet, trying with all of his might to unclog it. It seems like Chuck's new home was carrying a heavy load. "Okay, this is not working," he grumbles as he throws the plunger down. "What farm animal lived here?" He walks out.
56 years worth of corndogs, pork rinds, and untold gallons of cheap beer have solidified into the mother of all log jams. After plunging didn't work, Chuck walks back into the bathroom, holding a bottle of bleach. Chemical warfare was the only answer. Chuck poured the gallon of bleach down the trailer's poop chute, and waited.
From the darkness below, came a response...
A thick vapor erupted from the toilet, going right into Chuck's face. The sewage that had sat in the tank since Nam, had acidified.
Once the highly alkaline bleach mixed with the acidic sludge, it produced an explosion of chlorine gas.
When Chuck breathed in the chlorine gas, it reacted with moisture in his respiratory tract to form hydrochloric and hypochlorous acids, which are highly corrosive. These acids damaged cells lining his airways, causing inflammation, bronchospasm, and pulmonary edema (fluid in the lungs).
Overcome by lung-searing toxic fumes, Chuck went from roadworthy to... roadkill.
Way To Die #230: This Shit's Gas
Date: December 31, 2006 - January 1, 2007
Location: Echo Park, Los Angeles, CA
There's good luck. There's bad luck. And then there's Ronald. Imagine exiting a New Years Eve party with a hot date on your arm, and a night full of possibilities in front of you. Suddenly, you feel a thud, followed by a sharp stinging pain in your chest. You fall down, and two minutes later, you're dead. That's what happened to our friend, Ronald.
It wasn't till an autopsy that the real cause of his death was discovered.
Kwami and his crew of revelers were celebrating the New Year with a nighttime barbecue. All were laughing and having a good time, young, old, drunk, or high. It was a new year for all. As they were counting down to the new year, Kwami fires from his pistol into the air on zero.
The bullet ripped half a mile up into the air, going over 150 mph. When it came back down, it reached terminal velocity, 320 mph.
Several miles away, Ronald and his new date were exiting a New Year's Eve party. As Ronald was asking his date where the next party was, he gets a sharp sting on his shoulder, then blood comes out. The stray bullet from Kwami's pistol enters in through Ronald's shoulder. It tore right through his ribcage and lungs, piercing his heart, killing him.
It's a felony to fire a gun into the air. Stray bullets kill dozens of Americans every year. The lesson: when the clock strikes twelve on New Year's Eve... duck.
Kwami: "Happy New Year!"
Way To Die #171: Nite Capped
Date: September 19, 1999
Location: Dunkler's Residence, Sparta, KY
Why is this man standing in his bathroom doorway, holding an enema bag? A simple question with a complicated answer.
Mickey is a raging alcoholic with a twist. A recent throat operation had left him unable to drink. Clarissa, his long-suffering wife, has been doing her best to keep him in line, but she's no match for a lifelong drunk going cold turkey.
Alcoholism mostly stems from a combination of factors throughout life like trauma, chronic stress, or unresolved emotional pain. So they drink and drink, each shot fading out their inner thoughts. Over time, the brain rewires itself to depend on alcohol for dopamine release, dulling natural emotional responses. This leads to a distorted sense of reality and a growing inability to cope without drinking. As desperation builds, the person feels trapped in a cycle of shame, depression, and hostility, often believing alcohol is their only relief.
That brings us back to the enema bag.
Mickey needed help with his butt-bag cocktail. At first, Clarissa resisted, but he broke her down. She rounded up a bottle of sherry and dumped it into his enema bag. The bar was now open, and it's happy hour.
Clarissa pumps the enema, and Mickey gets smashed. After last call, Dunkler is drunkenly stumbling out of the bathroom with his wife helping him.
Taking alcohol like a good boy in the rectum, which is very venous, can spell out doom. It can be absorbed through the mucus membranes inside the rectum. The alcohol goes in the system, but it bypasses the liver where it is normally broken down. About 90% of alcohol we drink is broken down in the liver.
Clarissa beds him down, thinking he could sleep it off, but not this time. His blood alcohol concentration (BAC) has shot up to .57. Anything above .40 is lethal. As his BAC rises, his brain functions that control breathing, heart rate, and body temperature were suppressed. This led to slowed breathing, irregular heartbeat, and eventually respiratory arrest.
Mickey's drinking days are over. Bottoms up!
Way To Die #385: In-toxic-ated
Date: May 5, 2017
Location: Kennedy Secondary School, Fergus Falls, MN
Those of us who made it through high school were blessed with a lifetime of fond memories. Remember being bored? Remember being the lowest in the social ranking? Remember wondering why girls didn't like you? Best of all, remember the gym teacher?
"Alright, you bunch of misfits, I know it's hot, but we have GOT some work to do." Jacousky states to his class.
Coach Jacousky, a high school physical education teacher. Today in the field, he attempts to teach the tired and unenthusiastic students how to throw a javelin. One by one, these "special Olympians" demonstrate the result of bad diets, and a weakened gene pool. After his students' shoddy job of throwing, Coach Jacousky demonstrates in front of the students, making an impressive throw.
They roll their eyes and some clap. Running to retrieve it, he turns his head around to the class and yells, "That's how you do it!"
If he wasn't such a blow-hard, he'd still be winning arm wrestling bets at the local sports bar. But Jacousky forgot the one lesson teachers have been screaming for all eternity: pay attention.
He keeps running and turns his head back around and runs right into the javelin, impaling his left eye.
The javelin is then driven into his brain. He gets a free lobotomy as the bar shoots in and lacerates the many arteries and brain matter in his hot little head. Severe laceration caused brain hemorrhaging, which is what schooled the try hard gym teacher.
"Coach? Coach?" The students walk up to him. "This is not funny, coach." To their disgust and horror, they see their teacher dead eyeing the javelin.
They react in fear and excitement as they run away, with some of them taking pictures.
Mr. Jacousky's fatal error cost his life. But one rule he followed to the very end: Keep your eye on the javelin.
Way To Die #197: Spiked
Date: February 23, 1997
Location: Red Light District, Las Vegas, NV
Sam was a 32 year old virgin with his testicles going code blue.
To fix his situation, he goes to a red light district to get his rocks off. After passing by two rooms with advantageous ladies, such as an indigenous Poca-hot-ass and a voluptuous French maid, he continues searching. By door three, his choice is made for him. Dommy Mommy, I am so sorry for that name, grabs Sam and pulls him into her pain factory. He is put in a latex outfit, and Mommy does her stuff. Sam loves it. He's itching with excitement. Actually, he's itching for another reason. Sam never knew, but he has a severe allergy to latex. The itching becomes unbearable as he is shackled down. Under his suit, Sam is breaking out into hives, his eyes are burning, and every inch of his body is covered in a rash. To make matters worse, Dommy mistakes his muffled noises for him having fun. Unable to escape, the gimp goes limp and dies.
After initial exposure, the body produces IgE antibodies that bind to immune cells and recognize latex proteins. The IgE antibodies alert the immune system, leading to the release of chemicals like histamine. Histamine is a chemical released by immune cells in response to allergens, and it plays a key role in inflammation by dilating blood vessels and making them more permeable. In a case where you are allergic to something that is completely surrounding you, a massive histamine release can lead to a dangerous drop in blood pressure, airway constriction, and shock. Without rapid treatment—typically with epinephrine—this can lead to organ failure and death.
Sam was just itching to finally release. But then stepped in death, the real...boner killer.
Way To Die #319: Rubbered Out
Life is a bitch, then you marry one, then you electrocute, gas, stab, shoot, and dominate yourself to death. Or...that's what happened here anyways. Au Revoir, until we meet death again, sooner for most.