My buddy had just been dumped, and I was sitting at the desk in his dorm, pretending to listen to him moan. I had my feet on the edge of his desk, and I was tilting back in the chair while absent-mindedly tugging at the cord of his oh-so-clever banana phone. The phone suddenly launched off its wall-mount, striking me between the legs with appalling force. It was a nad-seeking missile. The shock sent me falling backwards in the chair, into the aquarium, which I badly splintered with my head.
In a movie, of course, the fish would have poured out all over my racked and battered body. But that would just be silly.
His depression was instantly cured.