I often wonder if there is a hierarchy of death story status in the afterlife.
For example, one man may be basking in his newfound glory, enjoying the horrified admiration of his listeners as he tells them of how he was decapitated in an accident on the freeway. He's certain of immense popularity, until he notices another man nodding, with a smug, sly grin.
"Well," the nodder says, "That certainly sounds terrible. A quick and painless death. Boy. I'm sure glad I was bitten in half by a great white shark and bled to death in the middle of the ocean."
The decapitated man's face falls. He knows he's lost, and his crowd shifts toward the great white's dinner with a collective gasp of shock.