Regret lobbying against that marshmallow factory being built by the highway.

Just cross your arms and resolve to absolutely, defiantly, decidedly NOT flap them.

Use the contents of your pack to enjoy a nice picnic last meal.

Aim for Phil Witterson's Porsche, that'll teach that prick to drive such a nice car.

Renounce Physics, and bend gravity to your will.

Sing a rousing rendition of Tom Petty's "Free Fallin'"

Curse creatively.

No arm flapping at all. A little dignity at the end, please.

Wish you'd started smoking, since clearly lung cancer can't get you now.

Go through five stages of grief, then fit in a nap.

Hyperventilate until you pass out.

Perform that self-appendectomy you've been meaning to get to.

Teach yourself to play the trombone.

Seriously, not flapping arms.

Take out your cell phone. The girl you've always loved but never been able to tell? Call her and tell her. Tell her everything she's always meant to you. Then tell her you just fell out of an air plane without a parachute. Tell her that you'll love her till the day you die. You should add that last part as a sort of joke so she doesn't get too sad.

Call information and get the number for a law office. See if you can get a lawyer. See if he can put your "affairs" in order. I've never had a lawyer but even *I* know your "affairs" are supposed to be "in order."

Try falling up. You just never know.

Quickly learn the language of the birds and convince a flock of sparrows to slow your plummet to a gentle downward drift.

Hum John William's rousing score while pretending to be Superman coming in for a landing.

You are NOT going to look like a desperate idiot flapping his arms. Not now.

Fill out the checkbox on the back of your driver's license that donates your internal organs to scientific mush.

Use the fact that your life is flashing before your eyes to review that crazy night with Tricia Rotiroti and her mom.

Call your boss and tell him he can take your job and plummet... oops... did I say "plummet?", I meant "shove it".

Strike up a rendition of Sinatra's "Come Fly With Me".

Look for someone on the ground and scream "I don't mind the falling, it's the landing that's tough."

Call the house below you on your cell phone and warn them that you might be dropping in.

Shake your fist in the air and yell "curse you Red Baron".

Don't scream "Geronimo", it makes absolutely no sense. Instead scream "Galileo." Screaming "Galileo", though stupid, makes some kind of sense.

DEAR GOD, FLAP THOSE ARMS! FLAP THEM LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW! FLAP, I SAY!!