Yeah... I sort of can't see "not feeling" this one.
It ends with a five-year-old, "lost" in a marsh prob'ly two hundred yards away from home, deluded by his childish lack of perspective to the point where he thinks he's lost forever and fearfully dining on Wonderful Medicine. If that's not funny as hell in a split-second-twisted sorta way, I don't know what is. I think we all might just be a little spoiled by the layers and scale of the GOF, still.
Its kind of a good strategy to get people back into "regular" Achewood, actually, laying down a strafing-fire pattern of "so-sad-its-funny" immediately after the tactical nuke that was The Fight, to remind us... hey... strafing fire can really mess you up, too.
Or maybe it just reminds me of my early childhood in northern New York State, my father taking me on twenty-minute drives to West Canada, NY and telling me that we were lost in Western Canada and we would never get home. We would have to start a new life, bartering beaver pelts to earn ourselves a rough-hewn log-shack eventually.
I mean, I was five or six. I was Convinced.