Haedoji

I wonder how Pollock's life must have been. Imagine this:     He just bought a new house. It's everything he ever wanted his abode to be. It's cozy, spaceous but not too overwhelming. A bit bland, but that's something easily fixed. Redecorating time is finally upon them. Pollock and his loved one, spreading paint cans on the floor, brushes hoisted high alongst their hopes for a more...colourful future. Pollock feels thirsty. That would be his downfall.     He walks over to the kitchen to grab a cold one, tripping on an open paint can on the way. A minor dominoe effect occurs and the can spills a second can over the floor. It's no problem