Chapter 1: The Launch

It was a fortunate day for Morris Clydesdale—or was it?

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash

Author's Note: A few years back, I was inspired to craft this science fiction tale after tuning into a TV shopping channel. I pondered, “Who actually buys these items? Electronic back scratchers? Neon curling irons?” Thus, the Aerorigible 2.0 came to life. (It seems Morris must have previously developed an Aerorigible 1.0 prototype.)

Morris stood frozen, eyes locked on the camera, as he braced himself for his first live television appearance. He repeated in his head that there was nothing to fear. The Aerorigible 2.0 would essentially sell itself. Once viewers laid eyes on this incredible invention, every household across America would want one.

At thirty-five and single, Morris felt the weight of his thinning hair at the temples. In his rented black tuxedo, he hoped to exude sophistication, but instead felt painfully overdressed. A simple sport coat and jeans would have been more fitting for a tech entrepreneur.

Just moments before, the stage had showcased self-packing suitcases—quite a tough act to follow. Nevertheless, he was confident the Aerorigible 2.0 would smash all sales expectations. In fact, he was so sure of it that he had wagered his life savings.

Nearby, Phoebe Calendar adjusted her elegantly styled blonde hair. Dressed in a striking red suit that hugged her figure, she could easily be mistaken for a political candidate. However, anyone who recognized her face knew she was the host of the morning show on The Gadgets Network.

She flashed Morris a reassuring smile, and a man with a clipboard pointed at her, signaling that it was time to begin. The light on Camera One flickered to life.

“Welcome to The Gadgets Network’s top of the hour,” Phoebe greeted cheerily, holding her microphone. “Joining us is Morris Clydesdale, the mind behind the Aerorigible 2.0.”

A round of applause, pre-recorded years ago, echoed through the studio. A cameraman rushed to capture Morris, who fought to manage his nerves.

“This exclusive deal is only available here,” Phoebe continued, glancing at the empty display cases. “Uh—”

Morris gestured towards the lone product sitting on the central shelf.

Phoebe quickly regained her composure, picked up the awkward device, and flashed a bright smile to the camera. “You have to see this to believe it!”

She showcased the Aerorigible 2.0, a silver, football-shaped object with a J-shaped hook welded to its base. Her eyes turned to Morris. “Why don’t you demonstrate how this fascinating invention operates?”

Morris flicked a switch on the side of the silver football.

Startled by a sudden loud hiss, Phoebe dropped the device. To her astonishment, it hovered just inches from her face. “How does it manage that?”

Morris turned the device around, showing the tiny jet engines that released puffs of steam. “The technology is patented, so I can’t disclose the specifics.”

“So, it’s a flying… contraption?” she stuttered.

“Floating. It stays wherever you position it.” He demonstrated by moving the device above their heads.

The machine's hook grazed Phoebe's hair, causing her to step back in her heels. “And it’s meant for—” She urged him to elaborate with a hand gesture.

“Hanging your coat.”

“Of course.” She shot a glance at her crew.

An assistant dashed onto the set carrying a vibrant pink leather motorcycle jacket. Phoebe eagerly grabbed it, showcasing the built-in music player. “Folks, if you tuned in earlier, you saw this stunning jacket! You can carry your tunes in the cuffs!” She attached the jacket to the Aerorigible 2.0’s hook.

The device obediently suspended the jacket between them.

“There must be countless situations where this gadget would come in handy. Please share some, Mr. Clydesdale.” She thrust the microphone toward him, keeping a watchful eye on the floating jacket.

Morris leaned in to take the microphone, but Phoebe held on tight. He leaned closer and began, “I should probably tell you the story of how I created the Aerorigible 2.0.”

She quickly redirected, “Let’s take our first caller. Mrs. Brewster, you’re on the air.”

Morris was taken aback; he had practiced his introduction all week, timing it perfectly for a twenty-two-minute segment without interruptions. Being cut off after his first line completely derailed him.

“Is this the housewares segment?” a cheerful woman asked over the speakers. “I love your electronic eggbeaters!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Brewster. We appreciate your feedback!” Phoebe responded. “Have you heard about the Aerorigible 2.0?”

“Does it make smoothies?” the caller inquired.

Phoebe replied, “Unfortunately, no.”

A sudden loud click echoed through the studio.

“Looks like we lost Mrs. Brewster,” Phoebe said, glancing at her assistant’s cue cards. “This product is currently priced at an introductory offer of just $89.50.”

Morris waved frantically, trying to correct her. She avoided his gestures, returning her focus to the viewers.

He leaned closer, whispering urgently to her.

Phoebe returned the microphone to her chin. “Oops! I think we misplaced a decimal. The correct price is $895.00. For… one?”

Morris nodded affirmatively.

“Buy one, get one free?” she suggested.

Morris vigorously shook his head. Each unit cost over $700 to produce, and after The Gadgets Network’s commission, he would barely break even if all 1,000 units sold at full price.

“Purchase two, and we’ll include a complimentary…?” She glanced at him, trying to think of something appealing.

Phoebe pushed on, “This would make a fantastic gift for someone who has everything! What colors do you offer, Mr. Clydesdale?”

“Silver,” he replied.

That would surely disappoint the loyal customers who preferred anything in purple. Undeterred, she attempted one last pitch: “Supplies are limited, so don’t wait! Customer service is ready to assist you. Ah, we have Mr. Urquardt on the line. How are you today?”

A deep voice resonated, “I have a question about this flying thing.”

Morris jumped in eagerly, “Yes, how can I assist you?”

“Why wouldn’t I just hang my coat in the closet?” the caller retorted.

“Well, perhaps you’re not home. Imagine you’re at work,” he suggested.

“I have a hook on the back of my office door already.”

Morris felt beads of sweat forming down his back. The studio lights were unbearably hot, and the scrolling quantity on the monitor remained stuck at 1,000.

Phoebe interjected to help him. “Mr. Urquardt, picture yourself in a nice restaurant wanting to hang your coat. You’ll be the star of the show with the Aerorigible 2.0 on display!”

“Yeah, people would definitely stare at me. This is the wildest product your network has ever shown.”

Phoebe smiled, “Thank you for your call. My producer informs me it’s time for a commercial break. We’ll be right back with more amazing deals!”

The light on Camera One went dark, along with Phoebe’s smile. She took the pink jacket off the Aerorigible 2.0 and thrust the floating device back into Morris’s hands before striding off the set.

Morris switched off the silver football to save battery. He asked the clipboard holder, “Will she return after the commercial?”

“Yes, but you won’t,” the assistant director barked through his headset. “Get those suitcases back out here.”

Click to read Part 2 of The Aerorigible 2.0.

Disclosure: I wrote this story independently and utilized Grammarly for proofreading.

Chapter 2: Unexpected Twists

The first video, titled "Forbidden Bas B Repeater ANGERS Modern Warfare 3 Lobbies," explores the chaotic reactions within gaming communities and showcases the humorous side of competitive gaming.

The second video, "Why you shouldn't skip the Talos burner mission! Min. 45m in just 11 minutes," emphasizes the importance of not overlooking critical game missions and how they shape the overall experience.