The cumulative friction from all that adjusting causes your nads to fall off.

    They hit the floor and roll.

    You grab one just before it rolls under the furnace.

    But the other one is scooped up by a mouse!  It takes its new prize and runs up the wall and into a mouse hole.

    Damn.

    You pull a bench over below the mouse hole, stand on it, and reach your hand into the hole.  You feel around, but can't seem to... wait a second... you think you can just barely touch something that just might be your nad.

    But then all of a sudden there is a great pain in your hand.

    <<bang!>>  <<bang!>>  <<bang!>>

    Somebody is hammering the hell out of your hand with something.

    Faintly through the floor you hear a voice saying "die die die!".

    It's Poppy.

    "Jesus Christ, Dad!  Stop!  Stop it!"

    You pull your mangled hand out from the hole.

    "Wha's that?  Brad, is that you?"

    "Dad, that was my hand!"

    "Your hand?  Well, don't do that!  Thought it was another friggin' woodchuck... I hurdled the TV and grabbed the hoe just so I could smash the shit out of it."

    "Sorry, Dad," you say.

    Well, things just aren't going your way.  You lie down and peel an old band-aid off your knee and put it on your mangled hand.  Then you black out from the pain.

    A little while later, Petey the one-eyed cat walks over to you and drops something on your stomach.  It's your lost nad!

    Maybe life isn't so bad after all.