The camera pans across a grocery store. A lone cart creaks as it rolls forward—stacked so high with milk cartons that they sway dangerously with each turn. The fluorescent lights flicker. A man’s heavy breathing echoes.
Son (running up): “Dad! DAD! That’s enough milk! Please, you’ve been doing this for years!”
The father stops. Slowly, he turns, his face half-hidden in shadow. His hand tightens on a gallon of 2%.
Dad (low, trembling voice): “…It’s never enough, son… never enough.”
09/10
Survivor/Apex
The camera zooms in on the son’s horrified face. He looks past his father—aisle after aisle, filled entirely with milk. A whole kingdom of dairy stretching into eternity.
Son (voice breaking): “But… Dad… we don’t even have cereal…”
The father looks up, eyes blazing with grim determination.
Dad: “…We’ll make our own.”
Cue dramatic orchestra music.
CommentsView
Survivor/Apex
The camera pans across a grocery store. A lone cart creaks as it rolls forward—stacked so high with milk cartons that they sway dangerously with each turn. The fluorescent lights flicker. A man’s heavy breathing echoes. Son (running up): “Dad! DAD! That’s enough milk! Please, you’ve been doing this for years!” The father stops. Slowly, he turns, his face half-hidden in shadow. His hand tightens on a gallon of 2%. Dad (low, trembling voice): “…It’s never enough, son… never enough.”
09/10
Survivor/Apex
The camera zooms in on the son’s horrified face. He looks past his father—aisle after aisle, filled entirely with milk. A whole kingdom of dairy stretching into eternity. Son (voice breaking): “But… Dad… we don’t even have cereal…” The father looks up, eyes blazing with grim determination. Dad: “…We’ll make our own.” Cue dramatic orchestra music.
09/10
Survivor/Apex
That's very unlikely nezu......
09/10