You camped out in line overnight. You haven’t been to work in two days. You’re wearing a costume. And you smell pretty bad. But it doesn’t matter, because you are first in line for the midnight showing of Spiderman IV: Still Really Whiny. This is going to be better than that time you won best Gandalf at the LOTR:ROTK premiere!
After sprinting into the theater, claiming your seat with a large flag, and cordoning off the area with police tape and land mines, you decide that it is safe enough to venture back out into the lobby for refreshments. You waddle up to the counter and assess your choices. Only fifteen bucks for a tub of popcorn, but for only $7.50 more, you can get an entire vat of popcorn, plus an entire keg of soda! You’d be a pretty stupid human-arachnid if you didn’t take advantage of that deal.
So you gleefully place your order, hand over the money to the unamused cashier, and giddily collect your purchases. The soda fizzes away in excitement, and the greasy butter flavoring smell is wafting up to your nostrils, who by now have been trained to ignore the fact that such an odor cannot possibly come from anything natural or even edible.
You step away from the counter, and immediately upon doing so, the slippery lard – pouring forth over the top of the vat with such heart-clogging enthusiasm – comes into contact with your tremendously uncoordinated hands. And it’s all downhill from there. The bucket leaps forth from your grip, showering you, the floor, and the unamused cashier with fatty golden kernels of pure delight. You cry out in horror as the shower continues, until every single piece has emptied itself out of your possession. Unamused cashier smirks as you sink to your knees, cursing the heavens, God, and even Stan Lee. You’re clearly taken leave of your senses. You slink back to your seat, crushed, broke, and above all else, starving.
So if you want to suck at life, spill a tub of popcorn within twenty seconds of purchasing it. No doubt your motor skills have atrophied after years of doing nothing but reading comic books in your mother’s basement. Well done, Captain Butterfingers.