And you realize: the most compelling piece of media content tonight wasn't a movie.
Explosions in miniature. Men in leather jackets diving away from fireballs. You’ve seen this one. You’ve seen all of these.
The clock ticks.
You return to the top. .
A graveyard of laugh tracks. The thumbnails are desperate—actors mid-guffaw, mouths open like landed fish. You wonder if joy was ever real.
Your thumb hovers over the remote, but your soul hovers over a void. You press a button, and the screen blooms with the first door: .