Recent reviews by Retroactive

Imagine a baker with a huge basket full of fresh, delicious buns straight out of the oven.

Now imagine him dropping the buns in the dirt. First a few, then piles of them as he bends down to pick the others up. In a drawn-out, comically sad scene, nearly every bun you were once so excited for is dropped in the dirt until there are more on the ground than in the basket. At some times, it seems as if the baker is taunting you, scooping buns from the basket to the floor with his own hands. When the basket finally makes it to you, the fresh buns are nearly gone, almost entirely replaced by their dirty counterparts, picked from the ground and returned to the basket.

At first, you feel more sorry for the baker than you do bad about the buns. Everyone else has been watching him fumble for what feels like hours now, and you're worried that they won't trust him to bake them buns anymore. As time goes on, however, your empathy turns to annoyance. Others keep ordering the buns, and he continues to repeat the same series of events over and over. Sometimes, the baker doesn't even return to his oven to get his next basket of buns, he just walks around the area, picking up the now cold buns of past orders. You can't help but feel like he cares less and less with each order.

Others have already left. Whether they've had enough of the buns or the baker, you do not know. At times new people will enter, look around, then leave without ordering. You never feel truly alone, and yet the bakery feels so empty. Part of you wants to leave, but despite everything, you still want more buns. The buns are still fine, despite the dirt.

Above all, the reason you truly can't drag yourself away is hope. Hope that the baker will get better, hope that the crowds will return, and hope that, against all odds, you finally receive a dirt-free basket.

Is such a thing even possible? What if it happened while you were away? Would anyone care to tell you? Would anyone know you cared? Do you even truly care, or are you only rooted in place by pure curiosity?

If you care to see, come on in, watch the baker, eat the buns. I'm going home.

baller