Sitting behind me are two guys who look like they could be wrestlers. Manly men. Lots of testosterone.

These two are the whiniest bitches I've ever had the displeasure of overhearing during a flight.
Yes, I appreciate there is no air. I don't know how often you've flown, but there's never any goddamn air. In case you haven't noticed, all the air is outside the plane.

Yes, I appreciate it is taking a long time to deplane. But somehow I don't think it's something against you personally. In fact, if I didn't have to run a longer distance in a shorter amount of time to make my connecting flight than you do, something else you're whining about, I would have hit my attention button and suggested to the stewardess that I would gladly give up my afternoon in order to make you and your buddy's life a living, sweltering hell.

Hopefully you will thank your gods that I and my out of control facial hair have been disarmed during our previous adventure. I just spent a week in the desert and my opinion of humanity is greatly diminished.