So we open on Nathan Drake (played by Troy Baker) in the middle of one of his classic predicaments. He’s climbing up the side of an ancient Aztec temple. Sam Drake (played by Nolan North) is close behind him. Cut to them in various other locations in different countries. They eventually make it to a street in Canada holding beers, arms around each other. We pan out to reveal them walking out of the Epcot World Showcase. Troy is talking about how he knew that he would totally make a better Nathan then Nolan throws his beer on the ground and punches Troy in face, then freeze frame as Africa by Toto starts playing cut to black roll credits
@angryinfp did one before but in a different style.
An ESTJ gives you a spreadsheet. Suddenly you can see your face in every square of the grid. I’m being put in a box!!!!!! you scream. No one hears. No one cares. You no longer have an identity.
Aliens come to destroy the planet. You try to stop them with kindness. They destroy the planet and keep you as a pet.
You dream with your eyes open. You are the only one with your eyes open. You can no longer tell what is dream and what is real. Everywhere you look you see ideals. Where are all the people?
You are staring at the stars. Stardust… you whisper. The universe whispers back. Stardust!!! you repeat excitedly. The universe doesn’t hear. Just like everyone else. Your opinion is not valued.
You have a feeling. The world drowns in your tears.
One day your friend calls you. You don’t answer. The ringing continues. The ringing has always been there.
Your friend breaks into your house the next day. Why didn’t you answer your phone? they ask. Who are you? you reply. You don’t know them. You can never truly know anyone.
One morning you wake up an 80-year-old. You still have a young body and live in your parent’s home. This is completely natural. You go back to sleep.
You live in a wasteland of half-finished projects. They call out to you. They know your name. You burn your house down.
You write something backwards with your wrong hand. It sells a billion copies worldwide. What a poet! they exclaim, How avant-garde! You don’t remember what you wrote, and suffer from imposter syndrome for the next 10 years.
People always tell you you’re quiet. Every time they do your curse grows heavier. Your mouth no longer moves, your larynx is like dust in the wind. You are fed intravenously.
Lost are the days when you did things. You huddle in a corner consuming people’s emotions from afar, tear-stains disfiguring your once-beautiful face. The starving child in Africa does not escape. You are the void.
Everyone around you is either burnt or frozen. Some are burnt, encased in a block of ice. You cannot help this. They should be more accommodating of your emotions.
Mental connections explode in your brain. It’s like magic!! you say. There is too much to grasp. No one can find your brain. You cannot find your brain. It really is like magic.
Do pigeons have feelings? you ask. You talk to them and begin advocating pigeon rights. Pigeons take over the world.