Gerald and the Galactic Glitch
Gerald Pumble had a contingency plan for his contingency plans. His colleagues often joked that if the apocalypse hit, Gerald would be the last man standing, meticulously organized down to his emergency gluten-free hardtack. Today was Gerald’s annual “Synergy & Paradigm Shift” presentation, and he was ready.
The projector flickered. Gerald, without missing a beat, smoothly switched to his mirrored tablet display. The office Wi-Fi sputtered and died. Gerald produced a laminated printout, complete with QR codes linking to cached versions of his slides. Then, the lights went out, plunging the conference room into absolute darkness.
A collective gasp. Not Gerald. He reached into his briefcase and produced a military-grade headlamp, its beam cutting through the gloom. "As I was saying," he continued, unfazed, "our Q3 projections indicate a slight dip in artisanal kombucha sales, which we can offset by..."
Just then, a voice boomed from the overhead speakers, echoing eerily. "Attention, all employees. This is not a drill. Due to an unprecedented solar flare, all global electronics are now permanently disabled. We repeat, *permanently disabled*. Please return to agrarian lifestyles immediately. Your 401k is now a pile of very expensive, very useless circuit boards."
A stunned silence hung in the air. Gerald sighed, adjusted his headlamp, and slowly reached into his briefcase once more. He pulled out a small, intricately carved abacus, then a quill and a roll of parchment. "Well," he muttered, "at least I still have my quarterly report compiled on papyrus. Anyone need to know the current exchange rate for a chicken?"