Whit Nelson is careening head-first down the waterside of life. Bullets of water blind and sting his face as the flames of the past lick plotlessly at his feet. It is unclear just who the protagonist is here, but the villain is the viewer himself.
As Whit Nelson swells to an unhealthy size, he inevitably clogs the tube. The children pile up behind him, until the entire metaphor collapses. He isn’t surprised. Bios are incredibly hard to write.