I think I am losing my mind. Gone are my calm, quiet evenings. Now I can FEEL the movie no matter where I am in the house. When The Hulk drops a car, the shock wave launches the cat across the room. When Horton ran with The Whos, my pot plant thudded across the table and committed suicide off the edge.
Though I go to my bedroom, and close the sound-proofed door behind me, I can still hear such raging destruction that I frequently run down the stairs just to check that a 747 hasn't just crash-landed in the dining room. It's exhausting.
I was about to ask MM if we could please chop the woofer into small pieces and burn it when I read on the Internet that Doctors occasionally remove gallstones using ultrasound therapy. So naturally I thought, "Why pay hundreds of dollars for a sonogram when I can just sit on the woofer?" These stones don't stand a chance against the X-Men.