My wife and I were at the airport the other day standing in the security line waiting to have high-intensity laser beams shot through us in the body scanner.  A middle-aged woman in front of us was in the process of placing every possession she owned on the conveyor belt.  Each time she thought she was done, she walked to the TSA agent at the body scanner, who promptly sent her back to the conveyor belt to remove yet another piece of jewelry or clothing not allowed in the Star Trek Transporter device. 

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