Congealing in a gluey puddle surrounded by millions of his dying brothers and sisters, their silent sperm screams went tragically unheard. The single sperm that, in a different timeline, would have become Archibald A. Arnold (Man of Science! Curer of All Disease! Long may his great name be spoken!), held onto life only long enough to wriggle slightly closer to a White Rhino can, in the forlorn hope it might actually be a vagina, before slipping away into the abyss with a sigh for what might have been.
Semen Oozing From Used Condom in the Rubbish Bin Behind Starters Would’ve Been the Guy Who Cured Cancer
