I strap you to a chair, pry open your mouth, dump a bucket of Pop Rocks in your mouth, and then make you guzzle diet cola until you rocket into the sky to the tune of Ode to Glory before you go tumbling into a colossal venus fly trap. You manage to escape and take the next flight back to the hill, but you get thrown out of the plane because you didn't have your tray table up and your seat in the full upright position. You go SPLAT because you did a belly-flop into a swimming pool from the plane, but thankfully HosPITal has ways of fixing that.

Seeing as how you're no longer here, I just claim this lovely hill for myself.

MY HILL!!!