I have always liked war. It ain't worth dying for, but what a great way to have fun! As a child, I developed war-playing into a genuine aesthetic. If you're going to be in an artillery attack, always make the "explosions" fling you through the air. In my games, a large-scale war would often come to a close with ME as a world renowned hero.
In my neighborhood, there was always at least one wimp who wouldn't "die" right. Even though they were caught by surprise, and sprayed with submachine guns point blank, they would still grab their arm as if only wounded, and keep on going. Anyone who's halfway cool knows that it's fun to "die" realistically. The lurching spasms of being blown up, the twisting seizures of being rolled across the lawn with a machine-gun, the final stagger of the mortally wounded swordsman. . .
What kind of person avoids these realism's for the cheap, Roy Rogers - Mickey Mouse, wounded in the arm routine?
A WIMPASS MOMMY'S LITTLE TAMPON-TEA DRINKING CRYBABY SNITCH, A GUY WITH MARSHMELLOWS FOR BALLS, that's who!