Day eighteen. Bernie, the gum-chewing web developer, is still going strong—or at least, still chewing. But his focus on maintaining his record is shattered when the coffee shop door swings open and in strides Captain Sal, looking exactly how you’d expect a cruise ship captain facing impending doom to look: mildly annoyed, slightly sweaty, and possibly reconsidering his career choices.
“The ship has a hole in the hull and is sinking,” he announces, like he’s reading off a dinner special.
The coffee shop collectively pauses. Even Lauren, mid-sip of her Liquid Death, sets her can down in shock.
Captain Sal crosses his arms. “You people here are all smart. Do you have any ideas how to plug the leak?”
The group exchanges glances. Sweet Sweet Rosie looks thoughtful, possibly considering how many tennis balls it would take to stop ocean water from rushing in. Leslie is suspiciously quiet, likely calculating how to pin this entire disaster on Bernie’s gum. Susan, ever the pragmatist, mutters something about finding duct tape.
Lauren, never one to let a crisis go to waste, leans in. “What if we just… turn the ship around? The hole would be in the back instead.”
Aly, still eerily chipper, claps her hands together. “What if we manifest the water out of the ship? Positive thinking is powerful.”
Rosie, who by now has inserted herself as the unofficial ship’s engineer, barks, “We need something sticky, something strong, something that can hold under pressure…” All eyes turn to Bernie.
Bernie, however, is frozen. His jaw slows, his gum weak and stretched to its very limits. The weight of responsibility settles on him. He knows—they know—there is only one real solution.
“Absolutely not,” he says, clutching his gum protectively.
“Well, do you want to be known as Bernie, the Gum-Chewing Web Developer, or Bernie, the Man Who Let Us All Drown?” Susan snaps.
The room falls silent. The waters are rising. The gum’s destiny is upon us.
Stay tuned.
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