(MA) Mature Audiences - Coarse Language, Advanced Concepts We wake from our cryogenic slumber along with all the other grunts, aboard the nuclear powered yellow submarine we awkwardly ordered. The mess hall is alive with hip hop and after eating we disembark to an island marina owned by an obscenely rich mining magnate. The government funded indie rock festival is all happening on the beach, but we pile into the mini moke and head down to the house club. Things are not what they seem and after too many vodka lime sodas we are weeping into the gutter with a broken heart. Finally the Uber arrives and the driver is intent on blasting us with 80s classic rock. Arriving home to the rented shack we discover that we have locked ourselves out of the house, so we sit on the back porch and ponder the trees with a brain squirming like a toad until the sun comes up and our flatmates come home. We are beset with a feeling of de-ja-poo, when we feel like we've been through this shit before
