I guess they could murder my wife.
It would take some real effort to handle that situation. First of all, if I came home and she had been murdered, it would take a lot of effort not to fuck her one last time. Especially if the corpse was still warm. (Then again, I've never fucked a really cold person so that could be neat.) The point is, then, while fucking my freshly dead wife, I'd have to try to be respectful of the way she liked getting fucked, and resist all the heinous stuff I could now in theory do to her, because she's basically a lifeless, lukewarm sex doll. That all sounds like a ton of work, and I could easily consider it 'getting fucked with'.
I guess another way to go would be to assault me sexually. Then I'd have to put up with dicks in my holes, and I'm not sure how good I am at that. I mean, I've said before I'd suck a dick for a lot less money than you might think, but I don't want to disappoint anyone. At least if I got violated in the rectum I know they'll have a good time, and that's some solace. It will take a lot of effort to not be too neurotic. I'd like to lose myself in the moment, you know? Get shipwrecked, swept away, taken to an earth-shattering place by the process of having someone force their penis into my two or so orifices. What a drag!
Giving me lots of money would fuck with me pretty hard. I'd have to figure out what to do with it, learn to be responsible, deal with a lot of bureaucracy and bullshit. I'd probably have to learn some things. Ugh.
I guess you could help me with my aspiring career as a novelist. What would I do with myself if I couldn't identify as a struggling artist? What would be the fuel that runs my daily existence if I managed to achieve my loftiest goal? That could really fuck with me.
Organize an orgy surprise party for my birthday? Awkward!
Give me a handjob on the bus? What if we get caught??!?!
Clean my house when I'm not there? What a violation!
Short Answer: Turns out, there are a lot of ways to fuck with me. Please don't do any of them! Please!!!