You stand up and enjoy the fresh morning breeze all over your sex junk. After a quick stretch you wind up and send the sword flying through the air where it disappears through the treetops.

A moment later there's the unmistakable sound of a helicopter that has been struck by a shortsword suffering 2d4+3 damage and is stunned for the next round which I guess doesn't matter because it also exploded and you just killed a bunch of people.

Way to go, champ.

You remove your backup phone from your prison wallet and call in an airlift and are taken home where you live happily ever after and none of this comes back to haunt you.