While I was skiing in the Alps I was ambushed and injured.

I was at the top of the hill. The view was fantastic. Cold icy air was slapping my face and ripping my throat and lungs but I didn't care because my adrenaline surge was pumping blood around my body one hundred times faster than usual! I went towards the slope and let gravity work the rest. As I gained momentum and distance, two figures rose out of the snow near some rocks and trees, as if the snow had just had an orgasm or something. They quickly caught up to both my sides with their heads lowered ominously. They were wearing pure-white ski-gear and their faces completely covered. In a flash of a second, the newcomers had drawn their guns and pointed them at my head. Out of pure fear and intinct, I started flailing my ski sticks around me wildly. The next thing I knew when I opened my eyes was that I lost my ski sticks but somehow wound up with the guns and both the would-be assassins had trailed behind me with both my ski sticks in their shin and achilles tendon. Then suddenly, dozens of figures rose out of the ground and wasted no haste in chasing me, all brandishing guns. Again fear and instinct took control of me and I closed my eyes and fired randomly in every direction and miraculously, I had hit them all! "Thank God for the principle of evil marksmanship!" I exclaimed jovially, but right then, I realised I was heading for the god damn cliff! And at that moment, a helicopter with its side facing me rose from the edge of the cliff and rose higher and higher until it was at the point where I would crash into it! Then the door of the helicopter opened and a woman with a megaphone shouted out to me, "GET IN!". But instead of entering my escape route, I smashed right into the metal beside the door and heard the sickening crunch of broken bones and fell fifty feet downwards and crumpled onto the ground like a used condom thrown away by an inconsiderate male pornstar who has a brilliantly tanned chest and dashingly bright blue eyes with a Mexican accent.
I was in extreme agony and my soul begged for me to die so it could relieve itself of the pain. And just when I think things couldn't be any worse, the woman jumped out of the helicopter and pulled on a cord attached to a bag on her back. The woman landed right on top of me with whatever was left of my muscles cushioning her gentle bottom but unforgiving Devil's Pradas making me spurt my heart out of my mouth. 'WHY THE HELL WAS I STILL NOT DEAD?!?!" The woman apologised. "Sorry JB! Parachute must be broken or something. Funny how that happens doesn't it?" Then with whatever remaining strength I had left, I told her, "What? My name is Brian Javers!" She went silent for a moment, then said, "Really? Oh I'm terribly sorry! I thought you were someone else! Sorry, I really have to be somewhere right now with this helicopter! My friend is probably fighting terrorists or some crazy sh*t right now!"
"Are the terrorists heavily cladded in white?" I asked.
"How did you know?"
"They were trying to f*cking kill me, that's f*cking how!"
"Oh really? Oh, they must have thought you were JB aswell! Here, I'll call them off for you."
And with her megaphone, she corrected the confusion to the people above and that I wasn't JB. I heard a lot of disgruntled and annoyed grunts and the killers marched on back to their posts. The woman then told me, "Well, I must be off!"
"What?! You're just going to leave me here?! Can't you f*cking see how mutilated I am? Aren't you at least going to call an ambulance for me??" in outraged astonishment I said.
"Sorry, I can't hear you! The wind is too strong!" she replied as she flew off on the helicopter. I then welcomed the unconscious blackness that I desperately anticipated.

I was soon found after that and instantaneously healed, but still! My trip was ruined and I demand you give me €1,000,000! That or at least a McDonald's coupon.

Yours Sincerely.
Brian Javers.