Those Who Don't Learn From History Are Destined to Repeat It

Back when I was about 8 years old, my friends and I would get all our toys together and play war. We'd spend hours digging in the dirt, building impenetrable forts to protect our men from the evil that lurked on the other side. Most of our forces were an amalgamation of Star Wars, GI Joe, Transformers, Voltron and He Man. After hours of tedious set-up, we'd begin our battle culminating in someone getting bored and "going nuclear" by physically jumping on his enemy's fort, wiping out the entire opposing army.

One particular battle in my backyard consisted of me using my Millennium Falcon as a jail for captured enemy forces. For those that don't know, the Millennium Falcon was an enormous piece of crap. It was too big, made of cheap plastic, and pretty much started falling apart the second I began playing with it. My dad would come home and spend hours gluing it back together again. Sometimes the damn thing would fall apart after giving it a dirty look.

Anyway, back to the battle. I believe I had captured Starscream, Snake Eyes, Darth Vader and my friend's Chia Pet (ok, I don't really remember, but it gives you a visual) and put them in the Falcon, along with about 14,000 jawas. I told him that if he didn't return my prisoners, his men would meet certain doom. Naturally, he scoffed and said that I was the son of a motherless whore and that he befouls himself in the milk of my cereal.

That pissed me off. I took my Falcon up the stairs of my house to the 2nd floor deck. I repeated my warnings, and he just responded in kind with more foul language. I then launched that giant piece of shit off my deck and it landed face-first in the ground, exploding into a thousand pieces. About the time it left my hand, my mom came out to see what I was yelling at. Not knowing that she was there, I erupted in laughter after I saw the Falcon explode. I had just started my victory dance, when my mom grabbed me by my shirt, picked me off the ground and started cracking my behind.

Needless to say, the war was over and I was left crying like a little baby. Moral of the story: I learned that it never pays to use toys as hostages in order to get your enemy to submit to your demands. Your opposing foe will not listen and you'll just end up getting hit my your mom.

Never in my life did I think that a bunch of murdering, terrorist thugs would be so stupid at to repeat my mistake. Don't these idiots ever learn from history?