>You made me a... burg-er?
>Is that like a nigger?
>Did you make me a nigger?
>Turn me back at once!

>>213995724
>What film??
>Where do I watch it??

>turn phone sideways
>kino becomes larger
>turn phone upways
>kino becomes smaller

What causes this?

Imagine being Speedee in that scene and having to be all like "damn, Ray Kroc, you fuckin' smart, all intelligent with your reasonable questions and horrific scrunched up boomer face. I would totally provide excellent customer service with you, both my character and the real me." when all he really wants to do is call him stupid and go back to work. Like seriously imagine having to be Speedee and not only stand at that counter while Ray Kroc flaunts his retarded question in front of you, the favorable lighting barely concealing his stretchmarks and leathery skin, and just sit there, take after take, hour after hour, while he asked you those questions. Not only having to tolerate his monstrous fucking visage but his haughty attitude as everyone on set tells him he's STILL GOT IT and DAMN, FOUNDER LOOKS LIKE THAT?? because they're not the ones who have to sit there and watch his mannish fucking gremlin face contort into types of grimaces you didn't even know existed before that day. You've been serving nothing but a healthy diet of burgers and shakes and later chicken nuggets for your ENTIRE CAREER coming straight out of the boonies in California. You've never even seen anything this fucking disgusting before, and now you swear you can taste the sweat that's breaking out on his dimpled forehead as he squints it in to writhe it suggestively at you, smugly assured that you are enjoying the opportunity to get paid to sit there and revel in his "brilliant (for that is what he calls himself)" business acumen, the business acumen he worked so hard for with personal lawyers in the previous months. And then the director calls for another take, and you know you could kill every single customer at this restaurant before the McDonald brothers could put you down, but you sit there and endure, because you're fucking Speedee. You're not going to lose your future assistant manager career over this. Just bear it. Answer his questions and bear it.

>>213786305
>But where do I drink it?

>>213774238
>Okay, I ate it just like you said
>But now I'm feeling some sort of pressure in my lower abdomen
>I think I felt something come out of my anus, and now it's dribbling down my leg
>What do I do now?
>It smells really bad

>>213772081
>IF I PULLED THAT HAT OFF WOULD YOU DIE?

>>213737560
Fuck you traitor bitch ass scum. Get the fuck outta here.

>>213597192
>Where do I put it up my butt?

>>28562501
>A frunk? What's that?
>So I just... put the grocery bags on the back of the seat?
>Where is my family supposed to sit?

>Your food it's making me do a poop
>a poop right out my butt
>what the hell do I do now?!

>>213432345
>Ronald?

>What do you mean it's already ready? I'm going to stand here and question the impossibleness of you pre-making food
>I don't give a fuck about the people in line behind me either

I've been reading less and less over the years. I don't think I've finished an entire book since the pandemic. When a book is bad, I get bored quickly or even fall asleep. When the book is good, I have to stop and look up every two sentences. Needless to say, technology has turned my brain to mush.

Do you have a specific time dedicated to reading? Was there a time in your life when you read more or read less than you do now? I think people are either readers and non-readers. I know people who are always reading something, and they've been that way since they were toddlers looking at picture books. Most people, though, have never read a book in their lives.

>>212995498
>Where do I get one?

One day, you'll receive a package delivered by a robot, brought to you by a self-driving car, shipped from across the globe by a 98% automated industry that uses autonomous machines for resource extraction, all managed by financial algorithms. Inside the package is some kind of token—maybe a QR code, digital gift card, or crypto coin—from an AI-generated waifu you accidentally purchased by blinking twice at an ad that popped up on your smart glasses.

You try to file a complaint, but the robots are too realistic. They know who you are and mimic the teacher who gave you your worst grades in school. You go to the police, but the station is just a touchscreen kiosk. To lodge a complaint, you have to pay a fee, and a cute animated puppy-cop responds with a code, promising someone will be on their way—but you know they won’t.

You take a walk, hoping to find a café with real people for a change, but they’re all closed—everyone's out of money. There’s a coffee machine on the street, though. It scans your retina and brews a cup based on your medical history. It tastes awful.

Someone bumps into you. You turn around—just another damn robot, this one refilling the coffee machine. You've been offline for two minutes when you get an automatic call from your wife—just another AI script. It keeps you productive, gaslighting you into just the right level of emotional submission. It’s a never-ending, nagging voice in your head.

You stop under a plastic tree and watch the street. Thousands of delivery robots are crashing into each other, rushing to serve office robots. And you wonder—how many of us humans are even left?