Mom pauses Yellowstone and asks dad if he wants anything from the kitchen while she’s getting some Wheat Thins. He says he’d like some Wheat Thins as well. Mom stands from her chair and walks past the family room computer desk into the kitchen when a loud rumble roars from the ground, and the entire house begins to tremble. It shakes madly as glasses fall from cabinets and smash on the floor; the family room carpet rips and the ground caves in. Dad screams as he plunges hundreds of feet into a dark sinkhole. Mom races to stand at the edge. Dad shouts he’s okay; the sofa broke his fall, but he has no idea how to get out of this pit. Mom scans the family room, considering options, and lands on the computer desk. She opens the large drawer on its right side and pulls out an old A/V cable, then another old A/V cable, then another old A/V cable, then another old A/V cable, then another old A/V cable, then another old A/V cable, then an old USB cable, then another old USB cable, then another old USB cable, then another old USB cable, then an old telephone cable I told them they could throw out along with all of these other old cables four years ago, then another old telephone cable, then another old telephone table, then another old telephone cable. She ties them together and hurls the rope into the hole. Dad says it’s a great idea, but it’s not quite long enough. He says he’s scared and hungry, worried he may starve to death.
Mom opens the other big drawer on the computer desk’s left side and pulls out an old ethernet cord, then another old ethernet cord, then another old ethernet cord, then another old ethernet cord, then another old ethernet cord, then an old iPod cable, then another old iPod cable, then another old iPod cable, then a power cord for an old modem, then a power cord for an old router, then an unidentifiable power cord, then another unidentifiable power cord, then a strange joystick, then a serial cable for a very old printer, then an old keyboard cable, and then six old wired computer mouses. The drawers are empty; this is all they’ve got. Dad thanks mom for the wonderful life they’ve shared, tells her he has no regrets.
Mom ties the cords together and tosses the line into the darkness, praying. Dad stands on his tiptoes on the arm of the sofa and is just barely able to reach the final old wired mouse, and with it he pulls himself out of the pit.
Mom and dad hug, say it’s a good thing they didn’t listen to their son who always wants them to throw things away. They get some Wheat Thins and resume watching Yellowstone.
