Imagine your local movie ninja leaves you the portable DVD player beneath the usual log at the edge of town. You bundle it up inside of your goods and inconspicuously bring it home. That night you gather your husband and three children to partake in the wonder that is western cinema. You blow out a few candles and remove a small brick from the hearth, retrieving the portable player from within and popping in your two counterfeit Enjerjizer D-cell batteries. There in the gloom of your commonspace the disc whirrs to life, and the gentle glow of the Morbius menu screen illuminates the faces of your awe-stricken children. It is like magic.
The following afternoon you kneel solemnly in the town square, looking down at their bodies. The distant croon of a raven can be heard.
“모비우스 재미있게 보셨나요?”, the stern-faced soldier asks, the barrel of his pistol planted firmly at the base of your skull. “나는 닌자에게 내일 가져오라고 부탁했습니다.”
It’s the last thing you ever hear.
Word is that it’s actually really hard to obtain Morbius, as Glorious Leader checks out the only copy nearly every single week.