Where are your pants?

ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US
ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US
ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US
ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US
ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US ALL YOUR SPOILERS ARE BELONG TO US
ALL YOUR SPOILERS

That transparent, plastic film on newly purchased DVD’s and videogames
that serves as the final barrier in between you and the euphoria of
this year’s top grossing seller in the box office.

It doesn’t make it’s presence known until that tell-tale squiiirch
of reinforced nylon straining against factory-brand casing plastic. You
try to bite through, but you pull to hard and end up wrenching a
now-saliva laden screen of plastic from your mouth as your teeth numbly
slam together in a blunt ache of despair. And there it is in your
trembling hands, mocking you with it’s blatant unopened-ness.

So close but so far indeed.

Aye, it’s a sorrowful tale in the history of life that always lives
to repeat itself once more in homes all ’round the world. Where are the scissors, God?
WHERE ARE THE SCISSOOOORS?!?!