Tropical Travesty

That the new bottle of shampoo in the shower is of the coconut variety that makes you dream of hula skirts and tropical beaches, but to your dismay - and much too late to do anything about it - you find out that the shampoo is really conditioner. And while slathering this substance all over your body you remember from early physics classes something about a coefficient of friction and stiffen as you feel your feet starting to slide across the floor of the shower.

Your reaction is anathema to what you should have done (curl up in a ball and wait for the water to rinse away the dastardly slickness) and stiff body and all you start to career around the shower stall like PopRocks in a glass of Coke. And speaking of glass, that's exactly where you find your unfortunate escape - through the glass door of the shower, sliced to ribbons and bleeding out on the cushy mat that ironically does a fantastic job of soaking up your O Positive and the conditioner that led to your demise.