“Guess what's in the barrel.”
“I don't care.”
“Come on, guess. You have to guess.
Everybody guesses. It's what we do.”
“Fine. Water.”
“Nope.”
“Sand.”
“Nope.”
“It's empty. Air.”
“Nope.”
“Fire?”
“Come on, are you going to take this
seriously?”
“I give up, I don't know.”
“You can't give up. Keep guessing,
you'll get it. Mitch got it eventually. Right, Mitch? Eh? Mitch
stopped talking since he found out what's in the barrel.”
“Give me a hint.”
“Think metaphorical.”
“Metaphorical? Like, freedom?”
“Close.”
“Truth? Wisdom? The status quo? Is
that in the barrel? How about consensual delusion? The absurdity of
late-stage capitalism?”
“Shh, keep it down.”
“The hollow promises of the ruling
elite? The realm of the gibbering corporate gods? The worldwide
machine that uses human life as fuel?”
“Did you peek?”
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