Three close friends were getting on in their years. They had done all sorts of crazy things over their decades together - alligator wrestling, running with the bulls, base jumping... you name it, they've been through it. At this point in their lives, each of their respective families has decided to put them into nursing homes. Seeing as how they won't have any more opportunity, they decide to have one last crazy evening, and play Russian roulette. The first friend brings the loaded gun, and announces: ""Three bullets, one for each of us. Let's see who luck favors!"" They all give an affirming nod, and the first brings the muzzle to his temple, and pulls the trigger. Blood, bone and brain spray out to accompany the loud bang. The two friends are a little jarred by the occurrence, but note that ""he hated the idea of going to a home."" With that, the second friend tries his luck, and readies the gun. ""Good times, eh, buddy?"" With a pull of the trigger, a familiar sound echoes off the walls as they are painted in gore. The remaining friend looks to the bodies of the other two with a smile. ""Well, here's hoping that even if I win this round, I don't have to wait too long to see you both again."" He grabs the grip, and takes his turn. --- The police arrive from reports of gunshots in a well-off neighborhood, and they investigate the grisly scene of three bodies. As the coroner tends to the victims, the lead detective is discussing his thoughts with his superior: ""I'm thinking it's a suicide pact. We have no signs of struggle, a box of bullets with only three missing, and nothing left in the magazine.""