Dance with a midget strawberry imitating the loud bang of a five-day heist, as it turns your most distant past into your darkest sitcom in an instant.
It makes no difference to us, as long as you slurp our noodles.
Disinherit your eldest thunderstorm and feed off its sand clock, like a viper drinking its own venom. Vengeance is never served lukewarm; your future is now held in cold hands.
We couldn’t care less, as long as you slurp our noodles.
Strike a pose with a kiln-dried log brandishing a selfie stick. Disembowel the stolen sympathy within and redecorate your living room with the sharpest one-liners unearthed from the flask.
It’s none of our business, as long as you slurp our noodles.
Pledge allegiance to a gang of illiterate elks turning a small peninsula into a giant island. Their molten bliss ebbs away and morphs into your once-great gloom.
We don’t give a damn, as long as you slurp our noodles.
This was inspired by a full-blown advertising takeover for a brand of instant noodles on the train during my morning commute. Because, as long as you’re eating their noodles, nothing else really matters.