. The pupils are impossibly wide.
          Imploring. The watery rims spill a single tear.
          We PULL OUT... revealing the eyes belong to a child. A young
          girl, fingers clasped pitifully. She's forlorn, alone in a
          dirty gray alley. We feel shame. Compassion. Sorrow...
          Then -- an IDENTICAL girl SLAPS in front of the first one.
          Then another! It's a PRINTING PRESS, the creation of a BLUR
          of sad children.

          A KINETIC montage