Picture two simple, mostly identical bent pieces of metal. If aligned properly, they slide together by virtue of their specific shapes, and overlap so well that at first glance, they look permanently attached. If one knows how to put them together, then one knows how to take them apart again— but there is no motive to. Without the other, each is just a twisted fragment of steel, but together, they create a singular who that is special and is to be marveled at. "How," an unknowing observer might ask, "could these two be attached so tightly without distorting their original forms?" But they do not know that these bonds are not forced into submission, but accepted as part of the objects' inherent nature, and only by giving in to that nature do the shapes give form to something new and amazing.

Tunes: "Life, In A Nutshell," Barenaked Ladies (iTMS).

With a sudden crack, shards of broken glass fall on the freezing cold asphalt. Puffs of air hang in front of her taut face like clouds of smoke as she tries to regain her composure. The large monkey wrench slips from her hand and clatters as it hits the ground. She absentmindedly bends down to pick it up, and cuts her finger on a fragment of her handiwork. Oh well, she thinks, I guess I deserved that. Some poor sap is going to wake up to find his car totaled thanks to me, so the least I can do is hurt myself in the process. She takes an appraising look at the now-defunct vehicle, and takes one more swing at the taillight which explodes in a satisfying shower of sparks. Satsfied for the time being, she shoulders her implement of destruction and walks away.

Tunes: "Blue Eyes," Cary Brothers (iTMS).