Better Off Dead...

but a pathetic...
washed-up, aged ex-champion.
Let's go!
Someone's gonna see God.
I'm gonna break
your goddamn neck!

Get outta the car!
Get outta the car!
Hello. How was your day?
- Beth broke up with me.
- That's nice.

We're through. That's it.
What the hell?
Wait a minute here.

Wait. This is death here.
I haven't even been
to New York City.

Jesus. I haven't
even been anywhere.

Suicide is never the answer,
little trooper.

Greendale is a bodaciously
small town.

It's a flyspeck on the map...
a rest stop on the way
to a ski slope.

I can't even get real drugs

Stalin's a hero, the only one
in this town who can ski the K-12.

You're a great skier,
but he's incredible.

What if I ski the K-12?
You think she'd take me back?

I'm back to suicide again.
I think we're all going
to enjoy this little treat.

I got the recipe
from the Ladies'Home Journal.

The mail got wet in the rain,
so some of the pages ran together.

But what I couldn't read
I improvised with my own ideas.