pweent and I had won an award, or graduated, or something. It was from a place called the College of Comics and Collectibles. The award itself was a little plastic action-figure guy, like a Star Wars figure, encased in a block of lucite.
There was a big line ahead of us, of other people also receiving the award or whatever it was. We didn't want to wait in line, so we faked serious crippling leg injuries so we could move to the handicapped line. It was much shorter. I started to feel a little guilty.
When we got over to the handicapped line, however, it was clear that nobody else in the line was actually any more handicapped than we were.