It had been several weeks, now, since Po had arrived in this strange land, and he felt fairly educated about his new surroundings. The indoor lights and running water had fascinated him, certainly, as had these mysteries called "electronics," but he felt confident that now, at least, he understood these things in theory, if not wholly in practice.
Today, though, he was left with questions as he stared in confusion at the television. He had been told these devices were for entertainment, and thus he'd happily watched as people behind blue boxes bearing their scrawled names had answered questions about this world, moments earlier. But for the last twenty minutes, an older man had appeared and attempted to convince him that
comfortable sleep was nigh unto impossible.
Po frowned as he watched, unsure what this strange man's purpose was. He made sleep seem as though it were a mission that could never be achieved without this pillow -- surely the same audience that so enjoyed the questions before wouldn't fall for this spiel? It seemed like misplaced advertising.
And, also, a really stupid pitch for a fairly useless-sounding product, but Po supposed that was neither here nor there.
[this post brought to you by the endless My Pillow infomercial that has been airing on every TV I've happened to see this week. Open!]