Sure one could. He gots the fever, and there's only one prescription, more droopy, saggy ass pants. Fire escape not included.
Here's a story to round off the year: a murderous New York gangster tripped over his own baggy trousers last week and fell to his death. Hector Quinones, 44, was in the middle of an apparently drugs-related killing spree when his low-slung trousers fell down and tripped him up. One of his would-be victims fled on to the fire escape of her apartment block; Quinones yanked up his trousers and struggled after her, but no sooner had he reached the fire escape than they fell down again, and he toppled overboard.
One would not, of course, wish such an undignified death upon anyone – not even someone as nasty as Quinones appears to have been. Yet there is a certain satisfaction in seeing the most ludicrous craze in men's fashion since petticoat breeches so graphically exposed.
UPDATE: Hector Quinones is really a nasty piece of work. Read about his righteous self-inflicted demise in this NY Post article.
I just remembered another instance where some goblin trying to elude the police manged to get himself killed. The incident was written up in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution on 16 Feb 03. The goblin bailed out of his car when stopped by police. You can view the grisly results here.