It drifts out of my body like in Hollywood movies before being accidentally breathed in by a nurse. I find myself trapped in a spongy, fleshy enclosure that I assume to be a lung. Despite being a spirit I cannot escape. When the Jesusaurus Rex made us from clay, he must have made our lungs from special material known only to him and the Ghostbusters. Alas, I am quickly absorbed into the blood of the nurse before being deposited into the kidneys. Eventually I am unceremoniously sprayed into the world of light once more, and I drift harmlessly into the extractor fan in the wall of the bathroom. My soul is torn apart like the many farts that came before. I fall to the ground in pieces, wondering why the Holy Jesusaurus would subject me to such anguish. Then, when all hope is lost, the angels swoop down on their motorbikes to take me to Valhalla.