Young Writers Society

And you're the fellow who laughed at an Elder tree and was promptly swamped with berries, later being exiled on top of a platform and never seen again.
(Possibly presumed dead.)

Haha, to bad I get rescued by a giant eagle with a British accent.

You attempted to go through the Blue Gate, but got stuck, and then it closed, so now you have to wait for someone else to open, which takes like a hundred years, so you starve to death, unfortunately.

You die from lack of entertaining books to read.

You got trapped in a building that was on fire and the fireman who tried to you save failed. You were both cooked to a crisp.

You died from the predictability and silliness of soap operas.

You died from even thinking about soap operas...bleh....

You died from stupidity and body odor.

You died from listening to the same list of 11 songs about 300 times in a row.

You died from lack of ability to understand music.

You die from understanding too much music.

You died from not understanding anything.

You die from lack of grammar.

You die from being oppressed by grammar.

You died from believing grammar is oppressive.

You died from to much liability to the grammar gods.