Gravity: Hey Jon, that's a nice lunch bag you've got slung over your shoulder. Give it here.
Me: No, I want it on my shoulder. It keeps it from swinging around while I walk.
Gravity: Give it!
Me: No, leave me the hell alone. I don't want it sliding down and catching on my wrist. It'll get in the way when I'm trying to do something, and then it'll get all caught up in the sleeve and -
Gravity: Give it to me now!
Me: Hey, Friction? Can you help me out here? I just need it to stay in place on my shoulder for like another thirty seconds.
Friction: Don't drag me into this. I'm Switzerland, man. I'm not getting involved.
Me: Dammit. (Reaches up with other hand to hold the strap in place.)
Gravity: Let go! IwantitIwantitIwantit! Give!
Me: Fine, I'm at my desk now. You can have it. I'll set it down right here.
Gravity: I don't want it anymore.
Friction: Okay, I'll get involved. There, I'm holding onto it. It's not going anywhere. Happy?
Me: You guys are assholes. Why do you have to be like this?
Gravity and Friction: Because fuck you, that's why.