Mortgaging My Soul, Once Again

So, during my routine mission to uncover the homosexual agenda of Walmart yesterday, I decided to pick up some WD-40 because, as we all know, souls are best lubed and rust-free. So, I picked up some other miscellaneous items and get to the self-checkout line and was going along my merry way, checking the stuff out, when I scanned my two pack WD-40. The screen went mad, screaming "Approval Needed!!" I looked down, confused for a moment, thinking that I may have picked up some Boones Farm Wine instead of the lube in the automotive department (hey, it's been known to happen to me once or twice!) and, yes, I did scan the WD-40. The elderly lady came by and *ACTUALLY* had me pull out my drivers license to verify that I, indeed, was over 18. I'm 26 :p.

I never asked the lady why they needed to verify that I was 18 years old, but I suspect that, while on the can it says that there's 2,000 uses for WD-40, Wal-Mart has come up with 2,001 uses. And, knowing Wal-Mart, it's a most dastardly and diabolical use...