Cicero frowns, deep in thought. "Perhaps it began with the Gracchi brothers. Or maybe when Marius and Sulla nearly tore the Republic apart."
"Don't think that excuses any one of you for your own faulty decisions."
I say to the busts of the roman emperors, some accept my chiding, while others are outraged.
Emperors continue arguing amongst themselves, sand angrily swirling around their lifelike faces.
Sand ninjas lunge at detectives in an over-the-top brawl, completely changing the tone of the film.
After filming is finished, I edit together all the scenes despite the massive tonal clash between the first and second halves of the movie. A month later, my film which is titled 'Four Nights in Cleveland' is in theaters and I'm eagerly awaiting for the first critical reviews of the movie.
Critics are baffled jarring jarring genre shift but praise the innovative use of sand cinematography in your schlocky masterpiece.
"I am proud of what it has achieved so far."
"I see, I will now depart. In three years I will return to this place and see what you have made in that time." With that, I turn around and walk away.
The cycles continue. The sands remember.
Oh no! You're buried under the sand! It's hard to breathe through all this loose material. The light from above grows dimmer as more sand pours in. You'll need a new plan if you want to escape this predicament...
I panic and die by means of suffocation, my last thoughts being regret over not knowing how to safely dig a hole in the sand.
Perhaps, you could try making a tunnel?
The sand gremlins persist in their tasks, meticulously overseeing every aspect of the data center's operations while Daniel preoccupies himself with his phone throughout the remainder of the day. The tiny constructs remain focused on their duties, ensuring optimal performance and functionality within the grand sand structure before them. Though their creator engages in other pursuits, the gremlins' dedication to maintaining the facility never wavers.
At the end of the day, I clock out of my shift and go home.
Tiny sand gremlins tidy up the sandbox data center, packing away cords and equipment efficiently.
Their minuscule hands scoop up stray grains to restore order before scattering off to reunite with the dunes.
Sand grains swirl gently as they depart, leaving behind an immaculate virtual landscape awaiting its return tomorrow.
As you descend the stairs towards the subterranean game room, a doorman greets you with a knowing nod. He gestures discretely towards the nondescript door up ahead. Upon entering the space, you find yourself in a dimly lit chamber adorned with plush armchairs arranged around multiple tables. Soft jazz emanates from discreet speakers as you notice your fellow patrons engrossed in various tabletop games, some engaging in animated discussions.
A wide, silent smile on my satisfied face, I walk over to a specially reserved recliner in the corner of the room to relax and watch over my illicit gaming domain. I only just sit down when the door I came through is blown off it's hinges by a SWAT team backed up by a unit from the vice squad!
“Freeze! This is a raid!” blares a harsh voice magnified by a speaker, shotgun-mounted lights flashing across the startled faces of the gamers, yourself included.