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I recently went to the 10:40 showing of a movie which ended up being more popular with the late night crew that I had expected. I got to the theater, the movie was almost sold out and the theater was packed (at 10:40...who knew?). I didn't want to sit in the front row so I looked around for a vacant seat and in a packed theater you really can't be choosy. I get to a seat and find myself sitting next to this lady who was really warm for some reason and she was next to her husband who we will call Captain Commentary. On the left side of me was a young guy and as soon as...AS SOON AS...I sat down I hear snnnnorrrrrk as he starts to make the sound one would make if rearranging a ping pong ball in their nostril. We'll call him Snots. Not one other person in the entire theater so much as cleared their throat and somehow I end up being book-ended by a guy who feels the need to repeat every single funny line and a guy locked in a death match with a loogie.

Another thing I noticed about Snots was his penchant for constant movement. I started to wonder if he had Tourette's and was somewhat expecting him to suddenly yell out some sort of obscenity. This was something I was actually looking forward to because if he was going to sit there and fidget for two hours I wanted to at least get a giggle out of it. I later dispelled the idea of him having Tourette's because I don't think sufferers of the disease pick their noses like that.

I did notice that Snots had quite a nice tattoo on his right arm. I had plenty of time to look at it because each time he picked his nose, scratched some body part, or dug in his ear or mouth with his right hand, the arm connected to that hand and the accompanying tattoo would cross the invisible "arm rest plane" and I would see it. I could have it reproduced from memory if needed.

(Captain Commentary and his warmer than normal wife had fallen from my radar at this point. I was very concerned that all the scratching, digging and snorking on the part of Snots would result in something being dislodged onto my person so Snots had my undivided attention.)

I noticed that Snots dug in his mouth a lot. I was sitting there thinking, "What are you digging for? Did you eat a dwarf before you came in here? You don't have any FOOD over there!" This guy showed a level of dedication that I have never seen, and will probably never again see, in another human being. He would unhinge his jaw in a way not unlike a boa constrictor about to consume a living and enraged water buffalo. He would tilt his head ever so slightly and reach in as far as his hand would go and begin to pick. The only thing that stopped his entire hand from disappearing into his mouth was his watch hitting his teeth. If he had worn his watch around his elbow, I'd have been in for a show.

I don't know if the casual observer realizes this but when one picks their back teeth with their mouth wide open it creates an echo much like a person screaming into a well.

After about an hour of witnessing the scratching and digging and fidgeting and the sound of him pulling air over whatever tyranny resided in his nostril the thought had crossed my mind that I may vomit and it was only at this point that I considered killing him. I figure that if I threw up I would make noise and people would notice. Even if I managed to keep things quiet by throwing up ON Snots the smell would permeate the theater, everyone would be evacuated and I would get beaten up in the parking lot by angry movie goers forced out of a comedy.

This being said:

OPTION 1: Of course if I could throw up completely on Snots, chew some gum to get rid of the evidence, point and blame him then he'd get beat up. I get off scot-free and I'll even seal the deal by throwing a couple of punches along with the angry mob in the parking lot for good measure.

But then I wouldn't get to finish the movie.

OPTION 2: Kill him. The way I figure it if I dispatched him in the most quiet way possible (I didn't get that far as to think about how I would have done it) he would sit there, deceased, and I could turn my attention to the movie and inescapably, Captain Commentary and his thermogenic wife. Unlike the smell of my vomit, which would clear the theater immediately, and result in my possible dismemberment, it would take him a good bit past the end of the movie before he started to create a stench and disrupt moviegoers.

This way I get to finish the movie, watch the deleted scenes and make my way to Denny's where I'd be eating a salad that smelled like lawn clippings and balsamic vinegar dressing before anyone ever noticed.


http://www.twitter.com/ninjacarhorn

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