Around the eighth loop of this Vine, you notice Vernon Davis never truly smiles. His eyes do not change expression even slightly.

Around the 20th loop you detect a rhythmic beat.

At the 80th loop, you begin to dance.

At loop 124, you're sweating, and you start to see colors that weren't there before.

At loop 198, you can't tell your own voice from Vernon Davis's. Is he still saying "sweet potato yams," or is -- is that you talking?

Loop 237: Yams. Sweet potato yams.

At loop 370, you notice the sweet potato yams *between* the sweet potato yams. You begin to believe each six-second loop contains infinite utterances of the phrase "Yams. Sweet potato yams." and only a chosen few can hear them.

At loop 455, you write a check to Vernon Davis, pledging him every dollar in your bank account. You sign it "S. POTATO YAMS."

At loop 510, you begin to regard the Vine as a three-dimensional space. A room. You can press your hand up against its textures. You can rest on its floor, attempt to climb its walls.

At loop 519, you realize you cannot scale the walls. You are stuck in the room.

Loop 580. You can't leave, but you can explore. You clamber up Vernon Davis's face. You dangle from his eyelashes. You slide down to his mouth and play his teeth like xylophone keys. You dash in and out of his larynx while he pronounces the "a" in "yams."

Loop 594. You weep. You can't stop weeping.

Yams. Sweet potato yams.

At loop 666, you set fire to your yams. I mean clothing. You set yams to your clothing. I mean fire. You set your clothing on fire. Sweet potato fire.

By the 900th loop, you're out in the street, rolling around to stifle the flames, desperately slurping water out of puddles. Sweet potato yams.

Loop 1,118. You're at the local courthouse. How did you get inside? It doesn't matter. You're naked and covered in burns and ripping all the curtains down off the windows and rolling them into the tightest balls you can muster. You kick open the doors of the courthouse, your arms full of wadded up curtains. You scream "PEET YOTATO SWAMS!!!!!!" and expect the townspeople to heed your call and come running. They do not.

Loop 1,400. You're in the back of a police car. A sweet potato yam is driving. It's wearing a hat. You reach down by your feet and find a sweet potato yam. You use it to dig through the floorboards, creating a hole just wide enough for you to slip through.

Loop 1,912. You're alone and very cold. You spit out a tooth. It's not yours. The tooth floats instead of dropping to the ground. You're in space. You can't breathe.

Loop 2,001. Stars take form out of the ether, then extinguish. Life-forms arise from their chaotic aftermath, evolve, and destroy themselves. The information comes to you in pulses, each of them millions of years long, but they feel like moments. Yams. Sweet potato yams.

Loop 18,880. You awake. Your head is throbbing. Vernon Davis is sitting at your bedside, grinning at you, but only with his mouth. His eyes are cold and empty. They do not blink. Vernon curls his lip to speak: "Yams. Sw--" You scream, but no sound comes out of your mouth. Just yams. Sweet potato yams.