NOTE: the following clip does come from an R-Rated film. While the 45-second clip does not contain any material that is morally offensive, especially for those who regularly squash bugs, it can be quite scary for the faint of heart. Consider yourself warned.
Now can you see why I'm absolutely paranoid about the elevator door not closing quick enough?
Questions that I must answer each time I get into the metal box o' death:
- Do I have a plasma rifle with which to defend myself from alien attacks? No.
- Is there a high likelihood that an alien will drop down from the ceiling with the intent to hurt/maim/kidnap/kill me at the exact moment the elevator door stalls? Maybe. Depends on the day and current location.
- Do I have body armor that can take the brunt of the acid? Nope. I continue to hope that my necktie can absorb most of the damage. It's another reason why I tend to buy more polyester than silk ties.
- Is my wife hotter and stronger than Sigourney Weaver and therefore able to carry me to safety after the burn? Duh. Yes.
- Finally, and this is the kicker, do I really want to deal with an incredibly painful alien blood-acid burn on my chest for the rest of the month? Not really, no.
Therefore, to ensure my continued peace and tranquility, all elevator doors must close promptly and securely at all times. You just never know.
*As an aside, this really was and continues to be an irrational fear of mine. My Dad had us boys watch Aliens with him on the Fox Saturday Movie special when I was about 8. Too young? Probably. My mother was none too pleased about it. But it was wicked awesome! Thanks, Dad!