Clearly, there is some serious shit going down in the foreground of this photo: an altercation, an argument, a dramatic scene or a hurried arrest. It's hard to tell exactly what's going on, but two things are certain: It happened suddenly and it is violently intense. But that smooth bastard in the background is wholly unfazed: He's just there, enjoying his beverage and the kind of cool breeze that only three unclasped shirt buttons can afford. If he's feeling anything at all, it's sure not shock. Mostly likely he's just appreciating the brief entertainment that Frank Stallone trying to forcibly gift-wrap Corey Haim to death has provided, before he has to go have sex with yet another supermodel on yet another yacht racing off yet another waterfall. Tedious.

A good fashion sense is nothing if you don't know how to accessorize. Sure, this guy is looking slick in his leather boots, black jeans, frog-enclosure sweater, gray parka and ivy cap. But what really makes this outfit are the fireman's gloves, RPG and riot shield. But while you're busy just marveling at the casual, tongue-stuck-out-with-a-kind-of-good-humored-exertion expression of this armed to the teeth rioter, you're missing two important facts. One: Riots are not like playing action figures at your friends house; equal weaponry is not distributed to all participants. He took that RPG and riot shield from a police officer at some point. And two: Fanny pack. I know, right? Kind of ruins the effect, doesn't it? Somebody should say something.

P-probably you.

Fake! I can tell by the pixels. There are literally thousands of them. This picture is basically nothing but pixels; that's how I know it's been modified. Plus, there's just no way somebody ejects 20 goddamn feet from impact. Life isn't that dramatic. Also, you're telling me somebody snapped that exact frame--the very instant a fighter jet starts breakdancing on the tarmac? Way too convenient. Oh, and finally: If this were real, why would the pilot eject that late? What kind of hardass sumbitch hangs on that long? Unless that jet was made by Knight Industries and talked like KITT from Knight Rider--allowing both man and machine to develop a long-standing bond over many years of thwarting smugglers and spies together--there's not a pilot alive who'd try that hard to save their plane. Why, one second later and he'd be...

Yeah, there. The craziest part? That little dude up there survived. That's not just laughing in the face of death; that's cumming on it after a night of filthy passion and promising to call later (but not).

He is, if anything, a bit disappointed. That posture is not the one you adopt right before screaming "watch out guys, fire tornado!" or "holy shit magic is real and it's being used on me!" or even just "that was unexpected." That is the posture one adopts right before muttering "no, no it's okay I guess. It's my fault really: I've been hearing so much about this 'twister of pure, hellish fire' thing for so long - I guess I just expected it to be, I don't know, impressive."

Things in the Kersland house were never the same after that day. When little Jonathan walked into a room, Dan and Marie quickly averted their gaze. They didn't know why, exactly, it was just as if the power had shifted in some quiet, unspoken way.

Also, the necklace of bear-teeth was pretty intimidating.

The story his facial expression tells: He was cruising along in his 'chopper, casually tossing Molotov cocktails out the window after lighting a never-ending chain of cigarettes with them, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a better helicopter off to the left, hit the exit button and began sprinting off to hijack the next one before the first one even hit the ground.