Do you know a story that goes like this?

Jet:  A man injured his leg during a hunt. In the middle of the savanna with no means to treat the wound, the leg rots, and death approaches. The man got onto the airplane that finally arrived and there he sees a land of pure white below him. The place glistening in the light was the summit of a snow-covered mountain. The name of the mountain was  Kilimanjaro. The man thinks “That was where I was headed…”

Spike: And?

Jet: I hate that story. Men only think about the past right before their death, as if they were searching frantically for proof that they were alive.