User blog comment:Zippertrain85/Q&A: Questions/@comment-13615389-20140912013544

The sky is beginning to crumble, the potatoes are getting smarter. You hold your child and wife close, your insulin shot mere meters away, but alas, mere meters too far. The banging on your door begins to get louder, more shards of sky impale themselves into the roof of your estate. The banging suddenly stops, only to be followed by a loud crash. The door is broken. It is raining melon now, the whispering grows louder, you begin to sweat profusely. Your son dissipates form within your arms, and the room seems to only be getting longer. The baby monitor begins to crackle with a voice, comforting your firstborn, yet your wife is right there. What do you do?