Or taking the time to give them a serious professional kicking. O'Hare to London killed my last suitcase (it had admittedly done over a decade of service). I assume they either attacked it with a tank into it or put it into a tag team fight with King Gojirah and Mothra. On the plus side, I griped and got enough cash back to buy an entirely new case (which was overdue, to be honest, the old one was perilously close to losing its undercarriage). New suitcases, like new passports, are like pressing the travel reset button.
And yes to that bloody I'm not a robot thing, tomorrow I'm going to hunt down and kill everyone responsible with actual motherfucking robots. Identify the photos that feature your blood.