- Highlight
- #1
I have a few, but I’ll start off with the one I remember the most vividly.
When I was a preteen I used to watch Futurama reruns all the time on Adult Swim. It always cheered me up and made me laugh until I saw that episode: Jurassic Bark.
That episode fucking destroyed me, I cried so much after I saw that ending. I didn’t rewatch it until years later, and even then I still teared up.
Another example of my childhood emotional trauma was when we read “Where the Red Fern Grows” in fourth grade.
I cried like a bitch, so did half my class.
When I was a preteen I used to watch Futurama reruns all the time on Adult Swim. It always cheered me up and made me laugh until I saw that episode: Jurassic Bark.
If you need a refresher or haven’t seen it, it’s the episode where Fry finds the perfectly fossilized remains of his dog from the 20th century, Seymour. They were inseparable until the day Fry was cryogenically frozen. It turns out that Seymour was so well preserved in the 30th century that he could be cloned back to life with his memories and personality intact. But then Fry finds out that Seymour died at 15; he left Seymour when he was 3, meaning he lived for 12 years after Fry’s disappearance. Fry decides to not go through with the cloning, figuring that Seymour lived a long, happy life with a new owner and forgot about Fry.
Except not. A flashback shows that Seymour waited for Fry in the place he last saw him every single day of those 12 years, through snow, rain, and heat. The last shot is of an elderly Seymour laying down on the sidewalk and closing his eyes, presumably for the last time.
Except not. A flashback shows that Seymour waited for Fry in the place he last saw him every single day of those 12 years, through snow, rain, and heat. The last shot is of an elderly Seymour laying down on the sidewalk and closing his eyes, presumably for the last time.
That episode fucking destroyed me, I cried so much after I saw that ending. I didn’t rewatch it until years later, and even then I still teared up.
Another example of my childhood emotional trauma was when we read “Where the Red Fern Grows” in fourth grade.
It’s a book about a boy and his two dogs, both of whom die at the end of the book.
I cried like a bitch, so did half my class.