Here's what's going to happen

I'm going to get hit by a meteor.

OR

They're going to call me and tell me it was all a mistake.

OR

I'm going to contract Legionnaire's Disease.

OR

I'm going to be the innocent bystander victim of a drive-by shooting.

OR

I'm going to eat some beets tainted with plutonium, leading to a nationwide recall of beets imported from Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

OR

I'm going to be bitten by a rabid guinea pig that escaped from a delivery van on its way to a medical research lab.

OR

I'm going to be run over by an ambulance on its way to rescue someone whose penis is stuck in the thumb hole of a bowling ball.

OR

An aerosol can of Citrus Fresh Scouring Bubbles will explode in my face, choking me to death with a faceful of powerful dirt-blasting foam.

But my final breaths will be fresh and lemony.