So there I was, lugging an overloaded trash bag roughly the mass of a collapsed neutron star, both hands desperately clasped around the plastic handles in an attempt to maintain the bag's structural integrity. Amanda, who foresaw my immediate predicament, was helpfully trying to open the side door of the dumpster, to no avail.
The door was stuck.
I'm grunting and groaning, having seen the inside of approximately zero gyms during my decades of mortal existence. After all, don't they make machines for this sort of thing?
(Mental note. I really need to get some kind of machine for this sort of thing.)
Anywho, this dude shows up out of nowhere, throws open the top of the dumpster, and with one hand effortlessly tosses the disposable pillar of creation up and over the rim. Didn't even so much as grunt, the bastard.
The moral of the story is, I'm kind of smart and funny sometimes.
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