Why does every Joshua involve death?

So remember how a couple nights ago I tried to write a couple stories without using the word "that"? Tonight I'm going to try for an original story that actually makes sense. I know what you're thinking, "Huh, once again TRS has nothing to write on a Motzei Shabbos, so he's going to create some internet filler." And of course I couldn't say that you were wrong. Still, I have as much an idea of what's going to happen as you do, and it might just turn out to be a masterpiece worthy of O'Henry or Maugham. You just never know.

Joshua woke up one morning and decided that he had to change his name. He was quite fed up with cashiers looking at the name on the credit card he handed them and saying, "Oh, you're Joshua? The guy who thinks he's a brilliant conversationalist?" Joshua really didn't feel that it was fair; no one else in the world had to explain their life-story to every single low-IQ convenience store clerk they encountered. Sure, life wasn't fair, and boy could Joshua talk about that for six and a half days, but seriously, this was getting ridiculous. Joshua understood if life would throw him a curveball once or twice, but every time he wanted to pick up some milk or mike and ikes?
After he had brushed his teeth and eaten some breakfast Joshua headed down to the local courthouse to see about getting his name changed. There was a long line of people there waiting to get married (it was a Wednesday morning), and Joshua had to wait for well over an hour. As he was about to step before the judge a large woman wearing red pushed her way beside him, trying to get ahead. Unfortunately for her, there was no where to go, and before Joshua could disengage himself the the judge said, "I pronounce you man and wife." Joshua didn't even hear him the first time, and grunted, "Huh?" The judge, none too pleased to have noise in his courtroom, said, "Didn't you hear me the first time? I said that I pronounce you man and wife. Go kiss the bride or something, and get out of my sight before I sentence you to three consecutive and possibly concurrent ten day sentences for contempt of court."
The next thirty and possibly ten days were a blur for Joshua; he had never been to jail before, and it was quite a shock to him to have to share his toothbrush with eleven other people named Bubba. At last he got out of the slammer, and his new wife was there to greet him. Joshua ignored her, chiefly because he never wanted to see her again, but also because the life of him the only thing he could remember about her was that she was wearing red on their wedding day. As it happened, on this day she was wearing green, and Joshua totally missed her.
As Joshua was hailing a cab to go home his new wife realized that he was trying to escape, and she sent her three hundred pounds flailing in his direction, and with a booming voice declared, "Joshua, your wife, it's me, come to my arms!" Miraculously a cab appeared just at that moment, and Joshua managed to get in it and close the door as she landed on the outside looking in. Joshua, wishing to distract the cabbie from the great dent which had suddenly appeared in the cab's structure, called out in his best movie actor voice, "Driver, follow that car!" The cabbie proceeded to follow the only car which was then moving on the road, which happened to be a copper bent on a mission of peace and justice. As they accelerated ever closer to the speed of sound a second member of the police began to trail the chase, and soon there was a merry threesome winding their way through the grim streets of Joshua's hometown (where else?).

Six months later Joshua was still trying to make sense of it all. The media had finally stopped hounding him. They had given the "Accidental marriage, intentional homicide" story as much run as they possibly could, but once he had been back in jail for a month, it was difficult to find anything to write about. There's only so much copy that can be written about sharing toothbrushes with multiple people named Bubba, and anyway, it's not like the public really cared anymore. Joshua was stuck in jail for thirty years minimum, and there'd be plenty of time to tell his story when he either died or was released from jail, whichever came second. "The only good thing to come out of this whole story," Joshua reflected, "is that I didn't have to change my name, rank, or serial number", not that he was given much choice in the matter. Judges don't like it when prisoners try to change their rank.