Death - What's Your Policy?
Horsehockey V - Episode 520
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Mr. Freeman stands alone. At a dizzying height, he stands - atop a precipice of rock that juts out of the ocean like the great pinky of Zeus or the impressive member of Dethelos, Aqualarian god of Agony. The sun is either rising or setting. Seagulls flock in unhealthy numbers behind him, though he seems oblivious to it. “We’re all going to die,” he begins, prompting a closeup shot. He must trim those nostrils because they look immaculate. “We are all going to die, people. Unless you're one of those people that freezes your body or whatever. Maybe not those people. But the rest of us, in varying ways, all equally horrific and painful and scary, are going to be violently ripped away from this wretched earth by the strong, icy hand of death and shed these smelly mortal frames that so hinder us in the cloudy, unremembered days of our twilight years. And they’re going to rot and get all nasty and gross. And poopy and wormy, too. Poopy yucky bad! That’s icky gross.” The camera keeps zooming in, eventually entering his right nostril and traveling up to his brain. Amazing technology these days. The old actor starts convulsing. “Purple monkey shirt laundry!” he screams. The camera pulls out for a wide shot, but the damage has already been done to his brain. The commercial ends. The message is confusing.
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Lord Reaibn Daenorth (credit to Ib)
6/6/2019 11:58:03 PM
Extending Enabled
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