I take death, but then that is my default answer to almost any question.
“Death or cake?”
“Death please.”
Really the question is almost insulting. There are lots people who suffer all sorts of hideous disfigurements in war, accidents, fires, birth defects or really just not being all that attractive to begin with. Somehow they manage to make a go of it.
A lot of people do a lot of things I’d rather die than go through.
I am what I do, not what I look like, so I’d choose to live. If the disfigurement were accompanied by great pain or greatly diminished capacity, my answer might be different.
I’ve never been attractive so I don’t see a hideous disfigurement as being that bad a thing to deal with.
I could still have an active social life online and I could probably make some sort of gauze covering that would cover my face but still allow me to see out, for those occasions when I did want to go outside. Would it be less of a life? Sure, but not to the extent that it became a life no longer worth living.
Death, please.
The ugly face.
Such disfigurement would be a perfect reason to claim disability. So I could finally financially afford to stay home in peace and just read and garden and do chores and type on the internet and be a happy introvert untill the day I die.
And if I act confident about all of it, I might even attract people by my freak status. People would rather associate with the eloquent en confident and rare Elephant Woman, then with someone who is just ugly and sad looking in an ordinary way.
I’d allow my husband to find another wife and stay friends with me. I’d finally have time for my kid. My friends would not mind.
I think I would not mind all that much. Which might be strange for someone like me, who spends a lot or time and money on looking good. It is just that I do all that for my career, and if the career is no longer necessary, I really don’t care very much.
And if I had to get out? I would just wear a big Easter bunny costume or something so kids would not be scared. Or I might dress up with a really elaborate face veil.
I can’t believe over 30% of voters so far have chosen death. I mean, you can always commit suicide later. Why not at least TRY living ugly?
I’ll have the cake, please. Oh, that wasn’t an option? Death, then, I guess.
Suicide will never get you in to Valhalla, but being struck down by Father Odin himself just might.
Life please.
If it was a choice between a lifetime of hideous pain it might be a different story, but I’m pretty sure I could be hideous and still enjoy books, films, food, wine…
As far as other people are concerned, well if they can’t cope with the marginally less gorgeous me they can go and…
Because it’s not exactly suicide this way. Sort of, but not really, and my loved ones wouldn’t think it was, so that would be easier on them.
Fuck you, Odin. I’m not going to play this game.
poof, smote
Kill me. I stand in awe of people who’ve endured horribly disfiguring burns & chimp attacks. That is not for me, however. I have enough trouble living well, wondering whether my wife would be able to see ME as opposed to my raisin-head, and whether she would appreciate being subjected to it in exchange for my companionship, would drive me mad. I’d become ugly in my bitterness and doubt. Plus, counting on heart failure and protracted decline in 14 years anyway. The remaining years I have will be good, or I will not have them at all.
And frankly, if I’m being captured by vikings and conversing with gods, I’m already off the deep end.
Considering how often I feel down, being ugly would make me even more depressed, so I’d choose immediate, painless death.
I’ll take ugly. Most of my hobbies can easily be performed inside my home so I wouldn’t have to go out much if at all (especially assuming that my spouse didn’t decide to leave me), I telecommute so aside from having allowances made so I didn’t have to attend occasional in-person meetings I could remain employed in my current job, my pets would still love me, and if I had to go out I could wrap myself up in a hat and scarf and go out at night. As long as it’s not painful, it wouldn’t be fun but it would beat death.
Tough call. I chose death because I don’t know how much enjoyment I would get out of life if I couldn’t find a significant other. I believe this would pose quite a problem in that area.
On the other hand, there’s so much more to life than that. Like another said, I’d be scared of dying. I probably would have changed my mind within that minute.
Yes, he did, in the subject line.
Now how can I trust him? 
Since I’m already married with kids, I’ll take the disfigurement. My wife is such that she’d stick by me (though I can’t say she’d likely be turned on by my appearance), and heck, I’m a dad…disfigured or not, I need to be there for my kids.