There was an old boat, over a hundred years strong—a proud vessel that had once ruled the seas, its sails full of ambition and its deck shining with history. But those glory days were long behind it. Now, the wood was rotting, the seams were splitting, and water was seeping in through cracks that had been ignored for far too long. But that wasn’t the worst part.
Onboard was a sack of bricks. Not the kind you’d use to build something useful—these were the walking, talking kind. The kind of people who thought life jackets were unnecessary if you just “believed in yourself.”
As the boat tilted and water poured in, one of them looked around and said, “I think the ocean is rising just to meet us. How polite!” Another chimed in, “Don’t worry, it’s only leaking on the bottom.”
Someone even tried to patch the hole with a slice of bread.
By the time the boat was halfway under, the passengers were still deep in debate—was it really sinking, or just “embracing a more immersive experience”?
And as the last bit of the mast slipped beneath the waves, they raised their soggy glasses and proudly toasted their greatest accomplishment—being the very weight that dragged the ship under.