It was a golden age of dumpster-living. No one thought it'd ever end. But then, from across the canyons of skyscrapers and asphalt, rode a group of determined lawyers who realized that people were having too much fun with their clients' dumpsters and decided to nip it in the bud before people starting planning to host their wedding in one. Thus began the dark age of the scary "caution" sticker:
Dumpster companies of the world, you are fascists! Last time I checked five minutes ago, this is America. Climbing on top of a dumpster or dancing around inside of it among the rats and brown lettuce is my unalienable right. What are you going to tell me next, that I can clean my used razors by licking them? That's absurd.
Warn us all you wish, dumpster, but we will climb upon you and host tea parties upon your surface whether you like it or not. And don't tell us not to cozy up inside of you. It's warm, comforting and filled with adorable, cuddly rats. And what do you propose we were to do if we're being chased by some precocious kid riding Falkor? Go inside a building instead? That's just crazy thinking!
Nothing can stop Falkor, except the well protected dumpster.
It's all moot now. Time and technology hasn't been kind to the venerable dumpster. We've all moved on to better social spots such as abandoned mines and live power stations to get our kicks. That boring old dumpster isn't the thrill-a-minute jungle gym it used to be. The warning sticker wins... this time.