Work Text:
so you are a soviet (specifically 36) year old man, picture gregor from limbus company 
and u sit down at a your local bar. your bones ache from the work of the day. your neighbors recently got moved from your commune so you live by yourself now until the goverment moves some new people in. your work consisted of computer programming for something physics related. you dont quite get it and neither does anyone else in your sector. so back to the bar; you plop down on a bar stool and stare at the bartender, "one mcslurry please". the bartender makes you the drink and you down it in a few sips. just another wednesday. go commuinism