“Good morning!” an affable voice blares from the boombox next to the kitchen table, following the trademark jingle of “Morning, morning, morning, mojo radio.” The voice belongs to disc jockey Kai Harada, a friendly, average sort who always has the perfect song to start the day. Sure enough, as eggs and bacon sizzle in a frying pan, an upbeat song starts to play, accompanied by the soft background noise of the morning news on the television.
No sooner has the table been set — a small salad, toast, eggs, bacon, and orange juice — than white noise and static interferes with the radio and the song dies out. The camera pans back to reveal a severed hand. Blood drips onto the floor from the otherwise pristine breakfast table setting.