The first couple seconds of this clip, shot with a cheap-ass camera by a drunken blogger while half of my place was being consumed in a barbecued chicken-related fire, look like something you’d see in a shady back-room booth at an Amsterdam head shop. But the bit where these dudes embrace gets placed alongside the final scene of Field of Dreams and the opening shot of Lost in Translation for reducing me to man-tears.

And we won’t stop. Cause we can’t stop.