Stopping In The Middle Is The New End
When this 10" Memory Foam Mattress arrives, it'll look a bit like a giant salami. Don't panic when you find out it's not edible.
Instead, walk out and buy yourself a normal-sized salami, and enjoy that while watching the video we've made, explaining how the 10" Memory Foam Mattress unfolds. It's already winning awards at film festivals (by which we mean, our moms like it).
Now, it's not Prometheus or anything, but perhaps some of you are a little unclear about what our video really says about the human condition. Don't worry. We can break it down critique-style.
The protagonist, 10" Memory Foam Mattress, arrives all curled up. This symbolizes "the journey" in its most primal state. Like how Luke Skywalker starts as a boy, but then becomes a man? Or how Spock has to be searched for after they shoot him off in a torpedo! Those of you with a film degree might see what we're getting at here: the hero's journey is a transformative one and takes time. In this case, it's roughly 48 hours of time for the mattress to fully expand to find its destiny.
Now, the antagonist, Scott, introduces the conflict, which forces the mattress to grow, vis-a-vis the process of unwrapping. Of course the mattress struggles against this, just like the character of Sarah Conner in The Terminator struggles against Terminators. But, ultimately, just as Sarah is freed from her waitressing job to become a soldier-of-fortune on the run, so too will your 10" Memory Foam Mattress find its destiny, of delivering you a ridiculously comfortable sleep on a 2.5 inch 'Next Generation' pillowtop with air flow ventilation ducts.
Of course, we'd be remiss if we didn't mention the use of color to tie the characters together symbolically. Notice the orange shared between Scott and the 10" Memory Foam Mattress? The director here is telling us that these two are really one; two beings, tied in place, never needing turning and always providing support while meeting all flammability requirements. At the end, when Scott indifferently checks his phone, is he ignoring his fallen friend? Or is he memorializing him by Tweeting an epic poem? Much like the final episode of LOST, some questions may never be made clear without buying supplemental DVDs and paying for sequels. And isn't that the very definition of genius?
You know, not in the traditional dictionary sense or anything. Just in the way people use it these days.