Out of the (Freakin') Blue

You've all read about them. People who die in what seems like the most random and utterly unexpected ways that makes you question whether these deaths were really random at all. Take the latest example.

Poor 38-year-old Robert Gary Jones of Woodstock, Ga was jogging on the beach at Hilton Head, probably enjoying the sea air as it filled his lungs with salty goodness; listening to tunes on his iPod. I'm going to guess that he was probably digging some classic rock, maybe AC/DC cranked up nice and loud. Maybe he was singing along:
"She was a fast machine. She kept her motor clean. She was the best damned woman..."

All of a sudden there is this huge shadow obliterating his shadow but before he can turn to look, BAM, he is crushed by a plane making an emergency landing. I'm also guessing that it was over pretty quick.

So, I imagine a conversation between the Almighty and some underling, let's say St. Peter:

God: Yo, Shorty (somebody told me Peter was Aramaic for Shorty. ed) this woman has been bugging me for some help with a rather embarrassing personal problem and well...you know.

Peter: Yeah, I know you hate to use miracles when other solutions are available.

God: I'm sure it's something that could be cured with a pill or an herb. What are the Graedons up to right now?

Peter: Uh, let's see. I believe they're taping a show.

God: Hmm, no sense in bothering them. What else we got?

Peter: Give me a second. We've got a doctor in Boise, a research chemist in Smolensk, a retired pharmacist in Buenos Aires, a pharmaceutical salesman in Hilton Head, an herbalist in Wuhan a...

God: Wait...the pharma guy

Peter: You mean the pharmacist?

God: No, he's too old, the other guy, the salesman in Hawaii.

Peter: He's in Hilton Head, not Hawaii

God: Whatever. Get him.

Peter: He's only 38, has a family, young daughter. You sure you want him?

God: Yeah. Look, I'll make it up to him--family too.

Peter: OK, you're the boss. How you want to do it?

God: Quick...and painless if you can do it but mostly quick.

Peter (Making last minute adjustments). Right-o, he'll be in here in two shakes.

God: Thanks. Oh, what was his name again?

Peter: Robert, likes to be called Bobby. Here he is.