Imagine WW3

You pop your head over a bunker all to see a furry hitting the griddy as they step on a land mine. You look left at your comrade and he’s swiping on tinder. Your lieutenant is crying as his parlay doesn’t hit. As all hell breaks loose, your door dasher arrives with a plate of slop that you financed. You manage to make it home all for a boomer to charge you interest on the rent you weren’t able to pay.