For me, sitting at the computer with my Sennheisers on and the amp up to 5. Bet I was having fun. I think I’d be happy dying while listening to music I like.
Probably rotting. No one would check on me for several weeks if not months.
mookieblaylock you’ve changed your name.
Knowing my luck, in bed with a trashy “erotica” novel in one hand and my Rampant Rabbit in the other. Which would be quite a fun way to go, really.
Gee this thread is going 100% bad.
90 years old, at the same time as my husband, lying in his arms because we fell asleep that way.
If I’m not lying next to my wife, there should be a guitar on my lap.
In a chair with a scrap of paper in my lap that has the cure for cancer, the world’s greatest song, or some other great contribution to society on it.
Oh, and a dead supermodel should be found attached to my junk… 
Holding a spent double barrel in one hand, an M16 on fullauto with an empty clip in the other, surrounded by hundreds of zombie velociraptor corpses, most of which seem to have died due to blunt trauma to the head.
Undead and hiding in ambush for you to come through the door.
In that scenario, I’m probably gonna be too busy to come looking for you for a while.
I don’t care “how,” but “when.” Hopefully before my body has become cat food.
Why do I care – I’ll be dead. THEY’RE the ones who have to deal with it. 
In 5 neatly severed pieces, one of which is pinned to the wall by an umbrella, and with a REALLY surprised look on my face. And minimal mess.
Just so everybody wonders what in the world happened.
Hanging from the ceiling in some kind of macabre autoerotic asphyxiation scene. Perhaps with a blowup doll strapped to me. May as well give people something interesting to remember me for.
In front of my computer, finger on the F5 key.
On the screen, a database error for the Dope.
Enjoying a warm bath. See also; soup.