Serious answer? COPD.
Shitposting answer? One day he’ll get so angry while posting here that he’ll rage-shart harder than usual. But this time, it just won’t stop. Tom turns into a 360-degree shit-fountain, his anus sounding like his rendition of Baker Street. Everything is covered in shit. Soon he’s dehydrated and struggling to breathe and his chest hurts. Desperately he crawls through the mess on the floor to the phone, his muscles weakened. Haltingly he dials 9-1-1. “Please send an ambulance, I can’t stop shitting!” he croaks. The operator promises to send someone right away. “You’ll never guess what he said this time,” she says to her colleague, and promptly forgets all about it. Meanwhile, the receiver slides out of Tom’s poopy grasp. His strength fails him and he collapses, face down, in a puddle of his own ordure. Then he drowns. The dogs of Tucson yap excitedly and their owners have no idea why.