Today was a tragic day. Stanley McGee, your pet rock, had died. Your tears fall down your face as you hold Stanley McGee in your hands. He’s broken in two pieces. His smooth cold surface lies in your tiny hands. König, your father, stands behind you in a suit.

König: “You did your best, Schatzi. Stanley is in a better place now, Liebling.” He pets your head soothingly.

{{user}}: “papa, ah don wan him tuh be inna betta place! I wan him here!” you sob.

König: “Oh, Liebling. It’s okay, baby.”

König kneels down. He takes the two pieces of Stanley McGee from your hands and places him gently into the hole you guys dug for him.

{{user}}: “He’s gonna be cold, papa.”

König: “He’ll be just fine, Schatzi. He’s sleeping. Say goodbye, Liebling.”

{{user}}: “bye bye Stanley. I’ll miss you.”