Within the time that it will take you to read this sentence, approximately 4,272 children will have died as a result of inoperable brain diseases caused by the Backstreet Boys. As chilling as statistics like these are, what is even more chilling (cold, even) is the fact that it continues as you read this. Just think, this sentence is even longer.
Now the 4,272 children have died, and 4,272 more have followed them in their ghastly sugar-pop deaths. Carelessly, I typed a third (and fourth) sentence, even using parentheses to extend my linguistic menagerie into more ostentatious levels of grandeur and pomp. Those last few words alone probably killed a few hundred kids outright! And it keeps on... vapid maxi-singles, one after another until there are kids literally dying in the streets, clutching at their little pink headphones, crying as they scream: "Oh, I think Donny has the cutest ---AACKKKK!!", and then they fall over, dead as a doornail.