Three hilarious and caricature-like characters sitting side-by-side at a kitchen table, intensely staring down at a smartphone screen in front of them, trying not to laugh. In the center is a tired mother in a worn-out old housecoat, with colorful hair rollers in her messy hair and a slight black eye, holding her mouth shut tight because it is stuffed with dry flour, ready to puff out. To her left is her husband, a scruffy, drunk-looking security guard in a cheap, rumpled dark blue uniform, with suction cup electrodes attached to his chest. To her right is their unlucky son, a miserable boy with a metal cooking pot worn like a helmet on his head and a large, loud steamship whistle in his mouth. They are all sitting in a messy, cozy post-Soviet style apartment kitchen with a patterned carpet on the wall behind them, leaning forward over the table in anticipation, cheeks puffed, trying desperately to hold in their laughter. Realistic photography style, comedic and expressive faces.
