Maybe he sees thousands of these cups filled to the top with fizzy soda, marching after him with pitchforks and torches. They are getting closer and his feet seem to be stuck in the mud. He can't scream because his mouth won't open! Oh no! He's going to drown in delicious Coca-Cola, what a horrible death. Then of course he wakes up in a cold sweat and wishes he had something to drink...a soda perhaps in an obnoxiously oversized container?
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