Look, I’ve had my fair share of oddball chats. People asking if bath bombs are edible. Someone once wanted to do a charity Simmenthal beef jelly raffle (I’m still not over it). But today? Today we hit the multiverse.
It started normally enough—someone popped into the chat and asked, “East coast west coast?”
Simple geography question? Maybe a debate about the best beaches? Nope. When I asked “Of what, precisely?” the answer came hurtling in like a rogue wizard on Red Bull:
“Dilutions of eternity brother.”
I beg your what?
Apparently, I was now supposed to know all about “moving black orbs” that “let you pass through clear objects.” Also, MI5 is hiding them. (Classic MI5, always ruining everyone’s plans for a glass-passing car.)
Naturally, I tried to clarify that I was, in fact, running a shop that sells very normal earthly items like incense and ethically sourced tea. But that didn’t stop my man.
“Come on man, I know you wanna keep them on the hush hush but I need like 240 of them.”
I’m sorry—240?! Not one orb. Not a cheeky six-pack. Two. Hundred. Forty.
He even offered to pay “hansomely” (sic), which I assume means he’ll show up in a tuxedo with a sack of Bitcoin and a monocle. If he can pass through glass, I’m guessing he doesn’t use the front door either.
Then it got… Harry Potter.
“Flipendo!”
A secret password maybe? To unlock my inner black market orb dealer alter ego? Spoiler alert: it didn’t work.
He closed by telling me he’d “be back in a week” at the same time. Like some kind of enchantment-based appointment scheduling system.
And honestly?
I swear I’m being trolled.
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