Kodak warns it may go out of business, a development that shocks absolutely no one who has tried to scan a 1990s photo with a modern phone.

The iconic film company, which turned light into memories, blames a ruthless market that prefers tiny screens over cinematic depth.

In a press briefing, Kodak executives announced a Plan B: lean into nostalgia, and if that fails, sell a limited-edition 8K-encoded obituary to document Kodak’s own sunset.

The big highlight? An ‘obituary video’ produced on 8K to celebrate Kodak’s exit, featuring stock footage of aging film stock and dramatic sighs.

Analysts say this move is par for the course for a company that survived countless digital disruptions by pretending nothing changed.

Kodak will pivot to experiential branding, with pop-up film labs in mall food courts offering instant slides and hands-on therapy for memory-hoarding consumers.

It plans to monetize nostalgia by turning shutter clicks and grain into a premium experience, including ‘Kodak Moments: The Museum Edition,’ a guided tour of cardboard boxes of unused film.

Meanwhile, the tech world continues to document life through smartphones and social feeds, leaving physical film to be a decorative luxury for coffee tables and protest signs about obsolescence.

Some investors remain hopeful, arguing the brand’s name still carries weight and that ‘Kodak moment’ remains a reliable brain glyph even when the camera is now a phone.

Public reaction blends sympathy with memes: grainy reels captioned ‘When your photos look like they were developed by a glacier’ flood timelines as people pretend they don’t need Kodak to survive.

If Kodak does go under, fans plan a ceremonial ‘print-out’ obituary on glossy stock, complete with coupons for a future, equally unlikely comeback.

On the way out, Kodak asks for a little respect from the market, noting its century of memory-making and hoping for an exit that includes a coffee-table book and maybe a commemorative vitamin-flavored film token.

Until then, Kodak insists it isn’t quitting—it’s merely retreating to its roots, like a caped crusader swapping laser beams for a box of spare photo paper.