IT WAS FRIDAY, June 26, 2009. It was morning. We were all reeling from the previous day's devastation—the death of Michael Jackson—when news outlets began to report that another cherished star had unexpectedly died: This time, it was beloved actor and "friend of the dinosaurs" Jeff Goldblum, who had reportedly fallen 60-plus feet to his death from the Kauri Cliffs while filming in New Zealand. How was anyone supposed to bear such sadness?
And yet... it sounded plausible. Our prince was cautious but curious. Or perhaps a neophyte director didn't know what gilded cargo they'd been entrusted with. What episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent would be set in New Zealand anyway? Wait a minute!
Although New Zealand police initially confirmed the death of Jeff Goldblum, Goldblum himself appeared three days later on The Colbert Report, where Stephen Colbert pressed him repeatedly on the rumor—until a deadpan Goldblum broke the news that, although he hadn't even been in New Zealand recently, he was, in fact, dead. Since Colbert was too upset to speak, Goldblum heroically delivered his own eulogy, comparing his muscularity to Marlon Brando and his pathos to Meryl Streep. "I cannot overstate," Jeff Goldblum somberly concluded, "how amazing Jeff Goldblum was in bed."
Goldblum wasn't dead, and we rejoiced—but it was then that we who survived this cruel hoax realized that such a tragedy must never come to pass. The United Nations convened an emergency meeting, and a task force of billionaire philanthropists pooled their resources. It cost $73 billion, but we got there. Now nothing can harm Jeff Goldblum. He's even going to be in the next Thor movie! If we can count on one thing in this life, it's Jeff Goldblum—because now, his consciousness has been uploaded to top-secret government supercomputers, and body is safely stored, triple ziplocked in impenetrable space age plastic for millennia to come. Jeff Goldblum has become "un-die-able"—and with him at our side, it is we who will truly live.