The date is 11/22/2027. John Vans himself is outside of my bunker- he keeps banging on the door. Something about posers, I keep hearing. The banging keeps getting louder. John Vans begins to scream, sometimes. I can barely make out a few interjections of ‘walls’, and something about minorities before he starts frothing at the mouth, raving. It’s at moments like these when it’s safe, when he’s distracted. I burst through the bunker door, John Vans sits stunned as he tries to recover- but I quickly nail a slab of drywall to his feet before he can stand. It works just as theorized, and his frantic, enraged thrashing incapacitates him long enough for me to get to the fridge- I search through the shelves, leafing through the depleted packages of Soy Drink and cricket patty before I finally find it, a packet of McDonalds Sweet N’ Sour Sauce from before the Hunt started. I take it quickly, running- John Vans recovered faster than I thought he would. “Let’s slip this baby into four-wheel drive.” He roars, seductively, as he slips a fresh pair of Vans Off The Wall™ onto his hands. I feel the fear of God in me as he starts to close in- my Walled Vans just barely keeping me ahead as I make my way over the perimeter defenses. My leg gets caught in something, a corpse, from a delivery man I’d ordered back when Vans didn’t monopolize the food business. The poor bastard was wearing Converse, he never stood a chance. John Vans begins to close in, now, like a panther stalking his pray, bounding gracefully from perch to perch. Just then, the familiar siren of the Amazon blimp sounds, for the company-mandated 30 seconds of break time in the Work Safety Therapy Boxes™. As John Vans is distracted, I quickly take the opportunity to wrench my foot free of the delivery man, bolting through my bunker door. “Alexa, seal the door!” I shout, to no avail- I’d run her out of battery that morning using her to search for food. As John Vans notices my disappearance, he begins to stalk closer. In a moment of quick thinking, I remember my Siri still has power, because Apple’s changed their charging ports to USB-G, and the fools in Kongress only shut off USB-C past 12pm, to stop Global Cooling. “Siri! Activate the Roombas!” I shout, the power coursing through my Smart Vault; as a storm of Roombas press against my vault door, sealing it shut. I hear John Vans’ final shouts, promises of hunting me down eventually- but my Roombas’ familiar targeted advertisement speakers drown him out. Unclasping my hand, I finally open my meal. My eyes widen in horror- it wasn’t Sweet N’ Sour. It was Barbeque. I sit against the door, as I stare up towards my 20$ LED light set-up that I saw on the People’s Republic of TikTok’s National Influencer List. I’d need to go hungry, for another 2 weeks.
#Vans #wall #meme #response