In the movie theater, my dad leaned over half an hour into Sixth Sense and whispered to my mom, "He's dead." Movie ruined or intellect validated?
So, now I can blame my bad habits on my dad. And on Encyclopedia Brown. I devoured these books as a kid. They were a series of short stories with subtle clues in each. The intention was that the reader would solve the mystery. Well, this developed a terrible need to figure out the ending of every story as quickly as possible. I've ruined movies for Jason more than once. But how else can I prove how quickly I figured out the end result if I don't have him to give an accurate time stamp? I also do this with books. Though the only person who suffers from the quick deductive reasoning is me. I'll read and read and read and finally get to a good twist and find myself disappointed because I guessed right. Is it too late to change professions? I think I'll become a private eye. Except I'll dress less like Emerson Cod and more like Charlotte Charles.
... I miss that show. They always had good twists. And the occasional song. You can never go wrong with an outburst of singing.