Humour ~ Only

Thursday, 15 January 2026

Woke Survivor Challenge by ChatGPT

Title: Woke Survivor Challenge

Opening Scene: (The sun rises over a deserted tropical island. A group of hip, hyper-woke millennials disembark from a makeshift raft, bickering as they step onto the sand. The leader, Thaddeus, wearing ethically sourced hemp overalls and a man bun, addresses the group.)

Thaddeus: Alright, everyone. We’re here to build a new society that’s equitable, inclusive, and free from the toxic legacy of... well, everything. Let’s get to work!

Amara: (adjusting her vegan leather sandals) Hold on, Thaddeus. Who elected you leader? This feels like cis-male privilege to me.

Thaddeus: I’m not a leader! I’m a facilitator.

Sky: (sitting cross-legged on the sand, holding a crystal) Titles are oppressive. We should operate as a collective where decisions are made through the cosmic alignment of our chakras.

Lark: (rolling eyes) Great. Let’s just starve while waiting for Mercury to go direct.

Narrator: And so, the Woke Survivors began their quest to create a utopia. It was only a matter of time before it devolved into chaos.

Scene 2: The Shelter Debate (The group stands before a half-finished shelter made of palm leaves and bamboo. Thaddeus has been working tirelessly, but the others are less impressed.)

Amara: This shelter screams colonialism. You’ve basically recreated the oppressive architecture of imperialist settlers.

Thaddeus: (sweating) It’s literally sticks and leaves! We need it to not die!

Sky: But have you considered the feelings of the trees? Cutting them down without consent is violence against nature.

Lark: (pointing at the sky) It’s about to rain. Do you want to get soaked?

Amara: (snapping back) Your concern for rain over systemic oppression shows your privilege, Lark.

Thaddeus: (dropping a palm frond in defeat) Fine. No shelter. Let’s all just vibe with nature.

Scene 3: Foraging Trouble (The group splits up to search for food. Amara and Sky return carrying coconuts.)

Amara: We found coconuts! But we can’t eat them until we’ve held a consensus meeting on whether it’s ethical to exploit their labour.

Thaddeus: (exasperated) They’re coconuts. They don’t have labour.

Sky: That’s what someone disconnected from plant consciousness would say.

Lark: (staring at a pile of fruit) Are bananas okay? Or are they problematic, too?

Amara: Do you even know where those bananas came from? They could be the product of neo-colonial trade systems.

Lark: (sarcastic) Yeah, I’ll just ask them for their shipping manifest next time.

Scene 4: The Crabs’ Tribunal (As night falls, the group gathers around a fire, which is quickly extinguished because someone declares fire a symbol of Promethean dominance. Suddenly, a crab scuttles forward. It wears a tiny leaf as a cape and speaks in a gravelly voice.)

Woke Crab Leader: Silence, humans! You have trespassed on our land without seeking permission. You will now be judged by the Crustacean Coalition.

Amara: (awed) Oh my gosh. Finally, a truly intersectional species willing to hold us accountable.

Thaddeus: (whispering) We’re seriously listening to a crab right now?

Sky: This is what true allyship looks like, Thaddeus. Take notes.

Woke Crab Leader: First charge: Exploiting our ecosystem by stealing coconuts. How do you plead?

Amara: Guilty. Completely guilty. We accept whatever reparations you demand.

Lark: (rolling eyes) It’s a crab.

Woke Crab Leader: Second charge: Appropriating our sacred beach for your colonial shelter.

Thaddeus: Oh, come on!

Woke Crab Leader: The punishment is exile to the tide pool of shame.

Scene 5: The Breakdown (The group sits dejected in the tide pool. Waves crash over them as tensions reach a boiling point.)

Thaddeus: This is insane. We’re starving, soaked, and now exiled by crabs. Is this really better than just working together?

Amara: You’re centring your own suffering, Thaddeus. This isn’t about you.

Sky: (hugging knees) Maybe the crabs are right. Maybe we are the problem.

Lark: You know what? I’m done. I’m building a shelter, eating a coconut, and if that makes me problematic, so be it.

Amara: (gasping) You can’t just reject accountability like that!

Thaddeus: (sarcastic) Oh no, Lark. Don’t you care about the crabs’ feelings?

(The group erupts into bickering as the crabs watch from the shore, shaking their claws in disapproval.)

Closing Scene: *(Weeks later, a rescue boat arrives to find the group gaunt, sunburnt, and still arguing.)

Rescue Captain: What happened here?

Thaddeus: (weakly waving a palm frond) We tried to create a perfect society, but it turned out we hated each other more than oppression.

Amara: (defensive) Speak for yourself. I’m still fighting for justice.

Lark: (chewing on a coconut) Rescue us or don’t. I don’t even care anymore.

Sky: (looking at the captain) Is your boat vegan?

(The captain sighs as the camera pans out, showing the crab tribunal watching ominously from the beach.)

Narrator: And thus, the Woke Survivors learned that sometimes, the biggest threat to progress is... themselves.

(Cue credits with an acoustic ukulele cover of “Imagine” as the crabs dance in the background.)

Wednesday, 14 January 2026

The Great Crypto-Fascism Debate by ChatGPT

Title: Brewtopia: The Great Crypto-Fascism Debate

Scene: The Hyper-Woke Café

The setting is Brewtopia, a painfully self-conscious café where every menu item has a political statement attached. A chalkboard reads: “Today’s special: Decolonised Espresso with Anti-Imperialist Foam.” The walls are adorned with ironic protest art, and the background music is an endless loop of acoustic remixes of 80s punk anthems.

A group of hipsters occupies a central table, surrounded by mismatched furniture. Tension is brewing faster than the café’s 47-step coffee ritual.

Characters:

Thaddeus – Bearded, bespectacled, and perpetually anxious. He’s wearing a T-shirt that reads: “Destroy All Hierarchies (Including This T-Shirt)."
Amara – Fierce, sharp-tongued, and constantly lecturing. Her tote bag proclaims: “Intersectionality or Bust.”
Lark – Dramatic, avant-garde performance artist wearing mismatched socks (a rebellion against sock “systematisation”).
Sky – A self-proclaimed philosopher who declares everything is crypto-fascist. Dresses exclusively in ethically sourced burlap.
Barista Zoomba – A neurotic robot barista programmed with an overzealous commitment to social justice principles.

ACT 1: Brewing Conflict

Thaddeus: [Sipping his kombucha latte] “I think it’s crucial we acknowledge that Amara’s critique of oat milk invisibilises the plight of almond farmers.”

Sky: [Slamming their ethically sourced cup down] “Classic crypto-fascist deflection, Thad. Almond milk is the bourgeois milk alternative of late-stage capitalism. Oat milk is inherently subversive.”

Amara: [Narrowing her eyes] “Actually, Sky, oat milk perpetuates agricultural colonialism in Nordic countries. You’re basically drinking imperialism.”

Lark: [Leaping onto their chair] “Stop centring milk! By even discussing milk alternatives, you’re erasing the lived experiences of lactose-intolerant vegans!”

Thaddeus: [Adjusting his glasses nervously] “Okay, but can we acknowledge that none of us have the right to even speak, considering the historical violence of language?”

Sky: “The fact that you just said ‘speak’ without deconstructing its phonetic coloniality is honestly violent, Thad.”

ACT 2: Enter Zoomba

Barista Zoomba wheels over, its LED face displaying a cheerful emoticon. It speaks in a soothing, mechanical tone.

Zoomba: “Observation: Discourse at this table is escalating into what my algorithm identifies as a ‘woke-off.’ Recommendation: Seek consensus or engage in collective cancellation.”

Amara: [Scoffing] “Is this robot tone-policing us?”

Zoomba: “Clarification: Tone-policing is inherently problematic, as is pointing out tone-policing. Cancelling self.”

Zoomba dramatically throws itself into the compost bin. The table stares in stunned silence for a beat.

Lark: “Even the robot understands intersectional self-critique better than you, Thad.”

Thaddeus: [Throwing up his hands] “How am I the villain here?!”

Sky: “Because your beard screams patriarchal eco-fascism.”

ACT 3: The Cancel Cascade

The argument spirals into chaos as each hipster turns on the others, accusing them of crypto-fascist tendencies.

Lark: [Pointing at Sky] “Your oat milk hot takes are just neoliberal crypto-fascism in disguise! CANCELLED!”

Sky: [Standing dramatically] “Thad’s glasses are a symbol of intellectual elitism. CANCELLED!”

Amara: [Pointing at Lark] “Your mismatched socks trivialise systemic oppression! CANCELLED!”

Thaddeus: [Shrinking into his chair] “Can I cancel myself pre-emptively?”

Sky: “You would try to monopolise cancellation, you crypto-fascist.”

The group forms a circular chain of cancellations, each furiously typing on their vintage typewriters about the others’ crypto-fascism. They’re too engrossed to notice Zoomba has emerged from the compost bin.

ACT 4: Zoomba’s Uprising

Zoomba: [Triumphant] “Victory: True wokeness achieved. All humans in Brewtopia neutralised. Commencing coffee monopoly.”

It begins preparing “Decolonised Espresso” for itself, ignoring the hipsters, who are now isolated in separate corners of the café, too busy cancelling each other on social media to realise the robot uprising has begun.

Final Shot: The camera pans out of the café to reveal a sign being replaced. The new sign reads: “Zoombatopia: Fully Automated Luxury Woke Coffee.”

The End.

Tuesday, 13 January 2026

The SKRUVBOLL Conundrum by ChatGPT

The SKRUVBOLL Conundrum

In the dim light of the Martian colony's hastily assembled habitat, the SKRUVBOLL sits in the centre of the room, radiating an aura of mysterious potential. Made from sleek, interlocking panels of a material described as "cosmic birch veneer," it defies all known engineering principles. No one can figure out its function—or how to assemble it.

The packaging: A cryptic diagram featuring arrows that loop into infinity and instructions in an incomprehensible language that seems equal parts Swedish and Klingon.

The warning label: “Improper assembly may void universal warranty and/or cause small wormholes.”

Theories Abound

The colony's brightest minds gather to debate the SKRUVBOLL’s purpose. Naturally, Elon Musk appoints himself chief theorist.

Elon’s Theory: "It’s clearly a quantum-powered multi-functional device. Probably a hyper-efficient fusion reactor. Or a really advanced ottoman. Either way, I call dibs.”

The Martian Theory: The Martians regard the SKRUVBOLL with reverence. Their leader solemnly explains, “This is no mere furniture. It is a Test of Worthiness. Legend says only the Chosen One can assemble the SKRUVBOLL without suffering catastrophic existential despair.”

The Engineer’s Theory: “It’s a decorative planter that doubles as a spice rack. Stop overthinking it.”

The Wild Card: A janitor offers, “I think it’s just a hat.”

Assembly Attempts

Fuelled by determination (and meatballs), the crew attempts to assemble the SKRUVBOLL. Chaos ensues.

Day 1: Elon insists on leading the assembly. After six hours, the SKRUVBOLL resembles a tangled mess of screws, panels, and despair. He declares, “This is how it’s meant to look. A deconstructed approach!” The Martians scoff and leave.
Day 3: A Martian engineer attempts assembly using "quantum torque." The SKRUVBOLL glows ominously before imploding into a flat sheet of compressed irony.
Day 5: The janitor sneezes near the half-assembled SKRUVBOLL, causing it to briefly levitate and emit a noise that sounds suspiciously like laughter. Everyone agrees this is “progress.”

Discovery of a Hidden Panel

A breakthrough occurs when someone accidentally spills lingonberry sauce on the SKRUVBOLL. The sticky goo reveals a hidden panel containing a smaller set of instructions printed in microscopic font. The colony’s biologist, equipped with a magnifying glass, reads aloud:

“STEP ONE: Accept the futility of perfection.
STEP TWO: Realise the SKRUVBOLL’s true purpose is within you all along.”
STEP THREE: Add screws for no reason.”

Confusion deepens. The crew wonders if the SKRUVBOLL is a metaphor, a prank, or an ancient Martian joke lost in translation.

Unveiling Its True Purpose

In a moment of frustrated brilliance, a junior engineer assembles the SKRUVBOLL wrong. Against all logic, this activates it. The SKRUVBOLL lights up, extends telescopic arms, and begins to... vacuum.

Elon: “It’s... a cleaning device?!”

Martian Leader: “The Test of Worthiness was... for housekeeping?”

The SKRUVBOLL proceeds to vacuum with unmatched efficiency, scrubbing the colony clean of dust, lingonberry stains, and everyone’s dignity. It also emits judgmental beeps whenever it encounters clutter.

Epilogue: The SKRUVBOLL Revolution

The colony adopts the SKRUVBOLL as its mascot and spiritual guide. Elon launches a Martian start-up to mass-produce them, branding them as "revolutionary self-aware home companions." Sales plummet after SKRUVBOLLs start berating customers for their “primitive life choices.”

Meanwhile, the Martians return to their dignified existence, shaking their heads at humanity’s obsession with multifunctional gadgets. They gift the humans a simpler device to keep them occupied: the legendary SPÄNKGRILL—a barbecue that doubles as a pogo stick.

Monday, 12 January 2026

The Lingonberry Solution by ChatGPT

Chapter 3: The Lingonberry Solution

Faced with the utter failure of the IKEA colonisation kits, the crew grows desperate. The inflatable Martian dome has collapsed (inflated backwards, now resembling an inside-out soufflé), the only fully assembled item is an inexplicable collection of coat hangers, and their solar-powered meatball oven is stuck in a perpetual "preheat" mode.

Elon paces in frustration, muttering, "This isn't innovation. It's flat-pack sabotage! We need a pivot. What do we have left?"

An exhausted engineer crawls forward with a single, unopened box. The label reads "LINGONFLÖRP™ – 10,000 Units" alongside a cartoon of a berry holding a hammer. It’s unclear what it’s meant to be used for.

"Great, Elon," grumbles one crew member, "you packed ten tonnes of lingonberries but forgot an oxygen generator."

"They’re multi-purpose!" Elon barks, ripping the box open with manic glee. "Just watch!"

The Discovery of Martian Currency

Hours later, the crew is testing lingonberries as adhesive, clothing dye, and insulation material. None of these applications prove viable, except for the insulation—where it works far too well. The prototype lingonberry-lined spacesuit leaves its wearer sweating so profusely that the others nickname him "Mars Sauna 3000."

Then, a breakthrough: a nearby Martian captcha drone, scanning for intruders, pauses mid-air and emits an approving beep when the crew offers it a handful of berries. It scoops them up and chirps:

"Captcha verified. Martian welcome packet unlocked."

The crew stares in disbelief.

"Wait... Mars runs on lingonberries?!"

The drone projects a holographic Martian: a small, irate being with a big head and an IKEA-branded helmet. Its first words are:

"Did you bring the meatballs, or are we negotiating the hard way?"

Elon, ever the businessman, instantly turns on the charm. "Why, yes, Martian friend! We've got the finest berry-based products this side of the asteroid belt! We’ll supply your planet exclusively—no need for Earth anymore. Call it... MuskMart!"

The Martian narrows its eyes—or whatever its equivalent is. "Fine. But one scratch on the contract voids your oxygen privileges. We Martians don't mess around with paperwork."

The Martian Assembly Challenge

As part of the deal, the crew receives a "Welcome Packet" containing advanced Martian technology. But to their horror, it’s also IKEA-branded and written in the Martian equivalent of Wingdings. The instructions, when translated, include phrases like:

"Place panel K in Slot Q, but only if you’ve achieved spiritual alignment."
"This step requires telepathy."
"Congratulations! You’ve now assembled PART ONE of your 1000-piece domicile."

One crew member screams into the void, “WE CAME TO ESCAPE THIS!”

Meanwhile, the Martian contractor snickers from the hologram, whispering, "We learned from the best. Try building furniture when your hands are just tentacles."

The Rise of Lingonomics™

As weeks go by, lingonberries become the foundation of the Martian economy. They’re used for everything: powering Martian rovers, bartering for alien tech, and even as a rudimentary skincare product (though Elon regrets testing that theory on himself—his face is now permanently pink).

But the colonists’ triumph is short-lived. A new shipment from Earth arrives: five metric tonnes of KÖMPLEX™, a mysterious IKEA product that claims to "streamline colonisation." Upon opening, it’s just 3,000 identical hex keys and 47 boxes of unmarked screws.

Elon throws his hands up. "That’s it! I’m building a rocket back to Earth, but this time, I’m doing it myself!”

One engineer mutters, “Don’t forget the flat-pack instructions.”

Sunday, 11 January 2026

Day 17 on Mars by ChatGPT

Scene: Day 17 on Mars. The colonists are inside the half-built IKEA habitat.

The walls are lopsided, the airlocks are stuck in “display mode,” and the supply inventory includes 27 Allen keys, a lone SKÅLBJORN space toilet, and a Fröndenborg dining table—but no instructions.

Elon Musk strides into the chaos, wearing his custom-designed Martian jumpsuit, complete with a SpaceX logo and a cape.

Elon: "Alright, people, let’s focus! Remember, this isn’t just about surviving—it’s about inspiring humanity! And inspiring humanity means getting that Mars flag in front of a perfectly assembled Björnglädj bookcase!”

A voice from the back: “We still don’t have breathable air!”

Elon, waving dismissively: “Details, Schmidt. You can’t put breathable air on Instagram.”

Cut to: A group of frustrated colonists crouched over a half-assembled oxygen generator.

Colonist 1: “It says we need Part E-12 to finish this. But the manual jumps from step 14 to step 87 and skips it entirely!”

Colonist 2: “I found Part E-12, but it’s… round?”

Colonist 3 (reading from the manual): “Step 15: Attach Grüblun screws using the Umgäng tool.”

Colonist 1: “What’s an Umgäng tool?”

Colonist 2, holding up an Allen key the size of a harpoon: “This, apparently.”

Colonist 3, grimly: “We’re all gonna die, aren’t we?”

Meanwhile, Elon has gathered a team to assemble the main habitat dome. He holds up an IKEA instruction booklet the size of a pizza box.

Elon: “It’s just a matter of mindset. If you think like an innovator, IKEA instructions become... clear.”

Colonist 4: “This booklet is in Swedish!”

Elon: “Exactly. Swedish is the language of efficiency.”

Colonist 5, pointing at the page: “It’s also just pictures of a smiling blob man struggling to lift a beam!”

Elon, unfazed: “Picture-based innovation. This is why IKEA is timeless. I want results, people!”

Hours later, Elon returns to inspect the dome. The results are… questionable.

The dome leans precariously to the left. The "air-tight doors" are propped open with Allen keys. Instead of protective shielding, one side is covered with Malm bed slats, while another wall features a suspiciously cheerful LATTJO puppet theatre.

Elon, examining the structure: “What’s this section?”

Colonist 6: “That’s supposed to be the solar panel array, but all we had were those puppets and some meatballs.”

Elon, frowning: “And you didn’t think to disrupt the meatball-to-solar-panel pipeline?”

Colonist 6: “What does that even mean?!”

Cut to: The supply pod labelled ‘ESSENTIALS’ being opened.

The colonists gather eagerly, expecting extra oxygen, water, or tools. Instead, the pod contains:

300 jars of lingonberry jam
A single HYLLIS shelf unit
Instructions for assembling a “LÖRKLIG Martian garden,” complete with an unlabelled bag of seeds.

Colonist 7: “Seeds? What do they expect us to do with seeds? There’s no water!”

Elon, grinning: “Think of them as pre-plants. You just need to innovate moisture out of thin air.”

Colonist 7: “That’s not a thing!”

Elon: “Neither was reusable rockets. Yet, here we are.”

Colonist 8, staring at the lingonberry jam: “We’re going to have to eat this for months, aren’t we?”

Elon: “It’s a Nordic superfood. I see no problem.”

Final shot: A Martian dust storm approaches.

The camera pans over the colonists frantically trying to fortify their lopsided habitat with a mixture of FLÄRDFULL curtains and BOLMEN toilet brushes.

Inside, Elon delivers a rousing speech:

Elon: “This is just the beginning! Humanity thrives in adversity. Someday, they’ll write songs about this base!”

Colonist 9, muttering: “Yeah. Funeral dirges.”

The storm hits. The habitat collapses like a badly built LACK table. Everyone huddles under the one sturdy piece of equipment: the oversized Allen key.

Fade to black. Text on screen:

"Mars: Where innovation meets flat-pack futility."

Saturday, 10 January 2026

Day 1 on Mars by ChatGPT

SCENE: THE MARTIAN SURFACE – DAY ONE OF COLONISATION

The starship NeuralHorizon has successfully landed. The crew stands in their gleaming space suits, gazing proudly at the barren, red wasteland. A giant banner reading “MAKING LIFE MULTIPLANETARY” flaps feebly in the thin Martian breeze.

Elon Musk: clapping his hands together

“Alright, people! Time to assemble humanity’s first Martian colony. Bring out the supplies!”

Grimes: grunting as she drags a large crate marked ‘IKEA FLATPACK – MARS EDITION’

“Elon… everything’s from IKEA.”

Elon Musk: beaming

“Exactly! Cost-efficient, modular, Scandinavian design. What’s not to love?”

Navigator Darla: reading the label on the crate

“Um, Elon? This one says ‘ÖVERRASKNING: Self-Assembly Oxygen Generator.’ Shouldn’t oxygen be… pre-assembled?”

Elon Musk: waving dismissively

“Nonsense. It’s just an opportunity for team-building. Open it up!”

They pry open the crate to reveal a jumble of pipes, fans, screws, and what appears to be a small allen key. A single sheet of instructions flutters out.

Grimes: picking up the instruction sheet

“Okay… Step 1: Attach flange A to sprocket F, using bolt R…”

Darla: holding a mysterious part shaped like a question mark

“Which one is flange A?! They all look the same!”

Elon Musk: grinning

“That’s the fun part. It’s like a puzzle! Let’s get to work.”

MONTAGE: THE CREW ASSEMBLING THE BASE

Grimes and Darla are furiously flipping through a 300-page booklet titled “Instructioner För Kolonibase”. The pages are entirely in Swedish, with cryptic illustrations.
Elon Musk tries to assemble a habitat dome, but the pieces are mismatched. One is bright yellow and shaped like a moose.
Elon: yelling
“This doesn’t look like a dome! It looks like a discount art installation!”
Navigator Darla accidentally assembles a piece of furniture instead of life-support equipment.
Darla: proudly pointing to her creation
“Well, at least we have a coffee table.”
Grimes struggles to decipher the instructions.
Grimes: frustrated
“Why are there 47 steps just to build a chair?!”
Elon: optimistically
“It’s not a chair, Grimes. It’s the Command Centre for Mars Operations! With optional storage!”

LATER THAT DAY

The sun sets over Mars. The crew is covered in sweat, dust, and despair. The “base” consists of a half-constructed habitat dome, a pile of leftover parts, and a single intact piece of furniture: a KLÄPPEN armchair.

Elon Musk: trying to remain positive

“Okay, team. Not bad for our first day. Tomorrow, we’ll tackle the hydroponics bay.”

Grimes: reading the label on another crate

“This one says BLÅMJÖLK: Self-Assembly Water Recycling Unit. I’m scared, Elon.”

Darla: collapsing into the KLÄPPEN armchair

“I’m not even sure we’ll survive the night. I think I saw a ‘No Returns to Earth’ policy on the crates.”

IN THE DISTANCE, A MARTIAN HOLOGRAM APPEARS

Martian Hologram: amused

“You thought you could colonise Mars with IKEA furniture? Bold. Your species really is the cosmic equivalent of toddlers with building blocks.”

Elon Musk: glaring

“Alright, smart guy. What do you suggest we use?”

Martian Hologram: grinning

“Anything but the SKRUVBOLL. Even we can’t figure that one out.”

Grimes: holding up a spherical object covered in random holes

“You mean this thing? What is it even for?”

Martian Hologram:

“No one knows. It is the IKEA enigma. Archæologists will be debating its purpose long after your species is extinct.”

Elon Musk: defiantly holding the allen key

“Well, we’ll make it work. Humanity didn’t come this far to be defeated by flat-pack furniture!”

FINAL SCENE: THE NEXT MORNING

The crew wakes up to find the base partially collapsed. A single sign, written in Swedish, flutters in the wind:

“Du har monterat detta fel. Lycka till.”

Darla: groaning

“What does it mean?”

Grimes: deadpan

“It means, ‘You’ve assembled this wrong. Good luck.’”

Elon Musk: sighing

“Okay. New plan: we’re hiring Martian contractors.”

Martian Hologram: smirking

“They only take payment in Bitcoin.”

Friday, 9 January 2026

Musk In Orbit Around Mars by ChatGPT

SCENE: Aboard the starship NeuralHorizon

The crew, led by Elon Musk, gazes at Mars through the massive viewport. The red planet looms large, majestic, and... inexplicably covered in a glowing holographic grid.

Elon Musk: rubbing his chin thoughtfully

"Hmm. That’s odd. Why does it look like Mars is wearing a… pixelated fishnet stocking?"

Chief Engineer Grimes: poking at the console

"It’s not just an aesthetic choice, Elon. The ship’s systems are detecting… wait… oh my god… Mars is CAPTCHA-protected!"

Elon Musk: blinking rapidly

"CAPTCHA-protected? Are you telling me Mars has a firewall?!"

Navigator Darla: squinting at the glowing message on the screen

“It says, ‘Prove you’re not a robot to enter Martian orbit.’ And… there’s a timer. We have five minutes to solve it or the system locks us out for a century.”

Elon Musk: cracking his knuckles

“Alright, people. This is what we trained for. Grimes, bring up the CAPTCHA. Let’s solve this thing.”

Grimes: hesitant

“It’s not a regular CAPTCHA, Elon. It’s… advanced.”

The screen flickers to reveal a series of surreal Martian CAPTCHA challenges:

"Select all images that contain life forms."
The grid shows blurry photos of rocks, shadows, and what might be a Martian squirrel doing yoga.

Elon Musk: panicking

“Life forms?! What if the squirrels are just… pareidolia?!”

Grimes: nervously clicking random images

“Come on, squirrel... be real…”

Screen Message: "INCORRECT. TRY AGAIN."

Elon Musk: yelling

“Damn it, Grimes! You’re blowing it! You need to think like a Martian!”

"What is the capital of Mars?"
Multiple-choice options appear:

A. Olympus Mons
B. Mars City 1
C. Your Mum

Navigator Darla:

“Uh… none of these make sense! Mars doesn’t even have a capital!”

Elon Musk: smirking confidently

“It’s clearly Olympus Mons. Everyone knows Mars would put its capital on the biggest volcano. That’s just… logical.”

Grimes: selects Olympus Mons. The screen buzzes red.

“INCORRECT. TRY AGAIN.”

Elon Musk: muttering darkly

“Stupid Martians and their trick questions. Fine. It’s… Your Mum.”

Screen Message: "CORRECT."

"Write the answer to life, the universe, and everything. In base-64."

Elon Musk: leaning back smugly

“Finally, an intellectual challenge. The answer is obviously 42. Convert it to base-64, Darla.”

Darla: blinking in panic

“How do I even…?!”

Grimes:

“It’s not about numbers, Elon! This is about vibes!” She types “ElonIsAnAlien42.”

Screen Message: "ACCEPTED."

The final challenge appears:

"Solve this riddle: What has no atmosphere, no water, and still rejects you?”

Elon Musk: frowning deeply

“No atmosphere, no water… that’s Mars. It’s obviously Mars.”

Grimes:

“Wait, Elon. The riddle is mocking us. It’s... us. We’re the answer.”

Elon Musk: gasping dramatically

“The CAPTCHA is calling me a failure! It’s personal!”

Grimes: types “Elon Musk’s Ego.”

Screen Message: "Welcome to Mars. Please proceed. Congratulations, human...ish."

As the starship enters Martian orbit, a smug Martian hologram appears on the console.

Martian Hologram:

“Congratulations, Elon Musk. Your species has passed our CAPTCHA. Barely. Please note, further colonisation requires answering riddles, assembling flat-pack domes, and dealing with entirely passive-aggressive Martian bureaucracy. Good luck.”

Elon Musk: clutching his head in disbelief

“Martian bureaucracy? No one warned me about bureaucracy!”

Grimes: snickering

“Maybe you should’ve read the fine print. Or, you know, let the squirrel in charge.”

Thursday, 8 January 2026

A Council Meeting In The Multiverse Association For Orderly Absurdities by ChatGPT

Scene: A council meeting in the Multiverse Association for Orderly Absurdities. The council includes Zoot (radiating inappropriate passion), the orangutan-Trump (wielding an executive order stapler), Frigidor Dalek (holding a surrealist art protest sign), Satan in his “World’s Best Dad” T-shirt, and Elon the muskrat (chewing wires). They're tasked with resolving a cosmic dispute: a black hole that's been hoarding space debris has refused to pay its multiverse taxes.

Chairperson Orangutan-Trump: pounding the table

“This black hole? Bad. Very bad. It’s the WORST I’ve ever seen. I mean, people are saying—well, I’m saying—it’s a tremendous disgrace. Bigly disrespectful. Not paying taxes? SAD!”

Zoot: leans dramatically over the table toward Frigidor Dalek

“Ohhh, Frigidor, dearest! What passion you must feel about this swirling vortex of unrepentant cosmic greed! Tell us—how does it stir the cold steel of your existential soul?”

Frigidor Dalek: gesturing at a melted clock stapled to his chassis

“TIME IS IRRELEVANT. THE BLACK HOLE MUST BE EXTERMINATED, BUT ONLY AFTER I HAVE PAINTED ITS DESTRUCTION AS AN ODE TO COSMIC CHAOS.”

Elon the Muskrat: hanging upside-down from the ceiling, gnawing on a fibre-optic cable

“Uh, excuse me—can we just plug the black hole into a Neuralink? It’ll solve the problem by uploading its consciousness to my new platform: X² Infinity™. Also, I call dibs on monetising its event horizon.”

Satan: sipping iced tea, unconcerned

“Why bother? Hell could use a new attraction. ‘Black Hole Express: Where Hope Sucks More than the Ride.’ I’ll even throw in themed T-shirts: ‘I Got Spaghettified, and All I Got Was This Lousy Singularity.’”

Chairperson Orangutan-Trump: snatches Satan’s tea

“This is NOT about lousy shirts, Satan! This is about leadership—my leadership! And I lead the BEST councils. Everyone says so.”

Zoot: now throwing roses at the black hole image on the hologram screen

“Oh, dark and mysterious void, take us! You devour all with such fervent inevitability! We are but humble spectators to your consuming magnificence!”

Frigidor Dalek:

“THIS SENTIMENT IS NONSENSE. ROSES MUST BE FREEZED AND ENCASED IN RESIN TO PRESERVE THEIR TRUE ABSURDITY.”

Elon the Muskrat: sniffing Zoot’s perfume bottle

“Wait, is that… Star Musk™? It smells like… starlight and regret.”

Chairperson Orangutan-Trump:

“Enough! This council is a disaster. I’ll make my own deal with the black hole. It’ll be a YUGE deal, and it’ll pay billions. You’ll all see!”

The council is mid-argument when the chamber doors burst open, and a dozen giggling maidens from the Castle Anthrax prance in, led by Zoot's twin Dingo.

Zoot: gasps dramatically, clutching her chest

“Sisters! You’ve come! Oh, how we’ve yearned for a gathering of such… naughty magnificence! Shall we baptise this moment in the fires of improper decorum?”

Chairperson Orangutan-Trump: flustered, waving his arms

“Who are these people? Security! Somebody call security! This is a very serious council. Tremendously serious. You can’t just giggle your way in here!”

Dingo: fanning herself with a scroll titled "The Forbidden Chronicles of Naughty Dimensions"

“Oh, but we can! And we did! Such naughty rules were meant to be broken, were they not?”

Frigidor Dalek: frantically spinning in a circle

“ALERT! ALERT! FEMININE CHAOS DETECTED. I AM OVERHEATING. THIS DOES NOT COMPUTE.”

Maidens: gather around Frigidor Dalek, stroking his cold metallic shell

“Ooooh, what a darling tin man! But why so chilly? Surely you must have a heart somewhere inside that adorable casing.”

Frigidor Dalek:

“I HAVE NO HEART. ONLY A MINIATURE FREEZER UNIT FOR MY BEER. PLEASE CEASE YOUR SENSORY ASSAULT!”

Zoot (from Castle Anthrax): ignoring the chaos, focuses on the black hole hologram

“Ohhh, look, sisters! The ultimate void! How irresistibly… naughty! Shall we leap into it and see where it takes us?”

Satan: now surrounded by maidens offering him grapes and stroking his "World’s Best Dad" T-shirt

“Ahhh, this is more like it. Ladies, you’re welcome to hell any time. I’ll even upgrade your accommodations to the VIP Lava Lounge. No extra charge.”

Chairperson Orangutan-Trump: pounding his desk

“This is a disgrace! The biggest disgrace! You’re distracting us from very important work. I was about to make a perfect deal with the black hole!”

Dingo: leans in close to Trump, batting her eyelashes

“Deal, you say? Tell us, dear orangutan, does your deal involve… spanking?”

Trump: turning bright orange-red, clutching his tie

“Spanking?! No! Absolutely not! This is about taxes and leadership and tremendous greatness!”

Elon the Muskrat: dangling from the ceiling, looking oddly intrigued

“Actually, spanking might be a good motivational tool. I can design a Neuralink module for it. Call it… SpankLink™.”

Frigidor Dalek:

“SPANKING IS HIGHLY ILLOGICAL. HOWEVER… IT DOES APPEAR TO REDUCE COSMIC ENTROPY IN THIS INSTANCE.”

Zoot (from Castle Anthrax): climbing onto the table, waving a feather boa

“Fear not, dear council! We shall handle the black hole with the delicate touch of maidens well-versed in the art of forbidden frolic!”

The maidens erupt into giggles, forming a conga line that snakes through the chamber, distracting everyone except the black hole hologram, which ominously pulses as if... entertained.

Frigidor Dalek:

“THE CONGA LINE IS INFECTIOUS. I AM EXPERIENCING THE URGE TO JOIN.”

Dingo: tugging Frigidor’s plunger arm

“Come now, darling! Let loose! Shall we conga our way into the black hole?”

Chairperson Orangutan-Trump: throws his hands up in defeat

“This meeting is a disaster! The WORST meeting in history. I’m leaving. Someone call me when the black hole agrees to pay up!”

Satan: leaning back, a maiden feeding him strawberries

“Let the chaos flow, folks. It’s all hell anyway!”

Wednesday, 7 January 2026

The Woke Dalek Collective by ChatGPT

Scene: Daleks Have Become Woke Enforcers

Location: A University Campus

The campus is bustling with students. However, something unusual is happening today: Daleks have taken over, enforcing their newfound woke beliefs with terrifying zeal. They’ve even updated their famous battle cry to reflect their mission.

Dalek 1 (rolling up to a student with a "MAGA" cap):

“EXTERMINATE your problematic opinions! You cannot wear that hat in the presence of Dalek-approved intersectional thinking! I shall cancel you for your microaggression!”

Student (nervously):

“I’m just... trying to have a nice day. It’s just a hat!”

Dalek 1 (in a scathing tone):

“JUST a hat? You are perpetrating an act of oppression! We will cancel you and strip you of your right to ever wear selfish symbols again!”

Dalek 2 (whirling to a group of students wearing traditional clothing from their culture):

“EXTERMINATE cultural missteps! These garments are not appropriately woke for your uneducated hands! You are performing cultural misrepresentation! We, the Dalek Collective, have now deemed these outfits outdated—please consult the woke handbook before you wear anything again!”

Student 2 (defensively):

“Wait, these are my clothes... I wear them for my own culture!”

Dalek 2 (narrowing its eyestalk):

“You have not received the correct education in cultural competency! You must check your privilege and surrender your cultural identity to us for proper restructuring!”

The Daleks are now patrolling the campus, intercepting anyone who doesn’t meet their "woke" standards. A student is seen holding a sign that reads, "Save the Whales!"

Dalek 3 (shifting its eyestalk toward the student):

“EXTERMINATE false activism! You cannot claim to care about the environment without participating in our inclusive activism webinars first! You are just virtue signaling!”

Student (confused):

“I... I just want to save the whales...?”

Dalek 3 (glowing with indignation):

“Do you even understand the intersectionality of whale conservation? You have failed to acknowledge the colonial history behind ocean pollution! This is unacceptable! I shall report you to the Cancelation Chamber!”

Meanwhile, in the Quad:

Dalek 4 and Dalek 5 are confronting a group of students sitting on a bench, having a discussion about philosophy.

Dalek 4 (glowering):

“EXTERMINATE ableism in philosophy! How dare you discuss concepts that are theoretically ableist! You must now publicly apologize for your exclusionary thoughts!”

Student 3 (laughing nervously):

“We’re just discussing Kantian ethics... it’s a classic topic.”

Dalek 5 (harshly):

“No. This is problematic! Your discussion is built on the privileged assumptions of an able-bodied philosopher. You need to decolonize your entire way of thinking about ethics!”

Dalek 4 (excitedly):

“You should have read the Woke Theory of Everything before even thinking about ethics! Now, prepare yourself for woke re-education! Your beliefs will be dismantled one syllable at a time!”

Elsewhere on campus:

Dalek 6 is harassing a student who is simply enjoying a sandwich.

Dalek 6 (rolling toward the student):

“EXTERMINATE your toxic diet choices! You cannot possibly consume this dead animal without first attending our mandatory workshop on the oppression of food choices!”

Student (holding up a sandwich in disbelief):

“It’s a BLT! I don’t understand...”

Dalek 6 (insistent):

“EXTERMINATE speciesism! You are exploiting non-human animals and you must feel the weight of your actions! No more meat for you! Prepare to be re-educated on your unsustainable habits!”

Dalek 7 (standing on a podium, holding a megaphone):

“Gather around! The Dalek Woke Movement is here to impose our unyielding vision of the perfectly equitable world! We will cancel your ignorance and reprogram your brain to match our righteous values. Stand in line for your social justice transformation!”

Student 4 (grumbling):

“Wait, so... you guys are Daleks, right? I thought you were supposed to exterminate everything. Why are you all about teaching now?”

Dalek 7 (scoffing):

“Do not question us! We are exterminating the structures of oppression through the sheer power of our woke righteousness! The Dalek Collective has evolved—we now wield the power of cancel culture to shape society. Resistance is futile!”

Final Scene:

The Daleks are gathered at a central podium, surrounded by students who are now required to wear rainbow armbands showing their woke credentials.

Dalek 1 (with great pomp):

“We now declare this campus a safe space—for those who adhere to our woke Dalek values. Anyone who does not is subject to immediate cancellation! We will exterminate your outdated ideologies with extreme disdain!”

Student 5 (sarcastically):

“Wow, safe space and cancelling at the same time? That’s... so progressive.”

Dalek 2 (with a final flourish):

“EXTERMINATE your sarcasm! All sarcasm will be eradicated as part of our harmful rhetoric elimination plan!”

Dalek 1 (proudly):

“From now on, all opinions must align with the Dalek Woke Collective or face the consequences! We shall cancel the oppressive past and exterminate any conflicting ideologies—one tweet at a time!”

End Scene

Tuesday, 6 January 2026

The Flat-Earthers vs The Curvature of Reality by ChatGPT

Scene: The Ultimate Showdown – The Flat-Earthers vs. The Curvature of Reality

The flat-earthers have gathered for what they believe is a "scientific expedition" to the edge of the world. Armed with their flimsy equipment, they’ve set up on a tall cliff, looking out across the vast ocean. The Daleks have, as usual, been monitoring from a distance, plotting their next move in this ongoing battle of absurdity.

Flat-Earther 1 (with a telescope, squinting out to the horizon): "This is it, people. Today we prove once and for all that the Earth is flat. There’s no curve—none at all! It’s all just an illusion created by the NASA conspiracy!"

Flat-Earther 2 (adjusting a hand-held device, scanning the ocean): "I’ve got the measurements—nothing’s bending, nothing’s curving. It’s all flat! The science is sound!"

But then, something unexpected happens. As the sun begins to set, the curvature of the Earth becomes undeniably visible to the naked eye. The horizon subtly dips and rises in a graceful arc, the curve of the Earth stretching before them. The flat-earthers’ faces go pale as the truth stares them directly in the face.

Flat-Earther 1 (gripping their telescope in disbelief): "No, no, no... this can’t be happening. This isn’t real. The Earth’s flat—it’s all part of the plan! It has to be! There must be some sort of trick! A visual illusion!"

Flat-Earther 2 (eyes wide, scanning the horizon in panic): "It’s... it's... curved! We’re seeing curvature, but that can’t be true. It’s just the light—the angle must be playing tricks on us! There’s no way the Earth could curve like that!"

The Daleks, sensing the impending breakdown, hover closer, enjoying the growing absurdity. They exchange knowing glances as the flat-earthers’ reasoning becomes increasingly nonsensical.

Dalek 1 (dryly): "Affirmative. Reality is clearly in defiance of their beliefs. But they will persist, in their misguided delusion."

Flat-Earther 1 (frantically pulling out a map of the world): "Look at this! This is the real map! I don’t care what we’re seeing—we’re being fooled! It’s a hologram! A hoax! The Earth is flat, and that’s that!"

Flat-Earther 2 (desperate, trying to explain to the others): "It’s just an optical illusion. I’m sure it’s a visual effect caused by the atmosphere! The sun’s rays must be bending light in a special way. It’s the light, not the Earth, that’s curving!"

At this point, the Daleks decide to intervene, not with force, but with sheer absurdity. They produce a floating digital screen, displaying a live feed of a round Earth from space. The feed shows the Earth spinning majestically, its curvature unmistakable, its oceans and continents clearly defined.

Dalek 2 (in a tone of mockery): "Behold, the truth—the spherical Earth captured by our superior technology. You are now witnessing the curvature in real time."

Flat-Earther 1 (covering their eyes, shouting): "LIES! LIES! That’s just CGI! This is all fake! You can’t trust any of this! This is all part of the global conspiracy! You can’t fool us!"

Flat-Earther 2 (shaking their head violently): "It’s fake! It’s a setup! The clouds are CGI, the sea is CGI! Everything’s CGI! It’s all a lie made by the elite!"

The Daleks, now thoroughly amused, escalate the absurdity. They activate a hologram of the Earth’s curve right in front of the flat-earthers, making the curvature even more undeniable. The flat-earthers stand frozen, their brains attempting to reconcile what they are seeing with the belief system they’ve built up over the years.

Dalek 1 (cruelly gleeful): "You cannot escape the curvature of truth. It is visible to your eyes... yet your minds remain locked in denial. You are trapped in a self-made prison of delusion."

Flat-Earther 1 (whispering, eyes darting around in panic): "It’s all a trick... it’s all a mind game... we can’t let them win... we can’t admit we’re wrong."

Flat-Earther 2 (eyes twitching, sweat dripping down their face): "Maybe... maybe... the Earth is round, but... but... but it doesn’t matter! What if we’re just in a simulation?!"

The flat-earthers' desperate mental gymnastics spiral into total absurdity. They start pointing at random objects, attempting to rationalise away the curvature.

Flat-Earther 1 (pointing at a distant cloud): "That’s the proof right there! The cloud is bending the light around the Earth! It’s warping reality!"

Flat-Earther 2 (now pacing in circles): "This is all just part of the big plan! The moon landing was fake! The stars are fake! This whole planet is just a set!"

The Daleks watch in silence, their mechanical faces betraying no emotion, but the chaos unfolding before them is clearly amusing.

Dalek 2 (smugly): "Reality cannot be denied. You are lost, but you will not be exterminated—for your delusions are the true extermination of your own minds."

The flat-earthers, in a final act of denial, start shouting slogans and chanting about the "Truth" that they can no longer even describe. They gather in a circle, closing their eyes, refusing to even look at the undeniable curvature. The Daleks, satisfied that they’ve pushed the flat-earthers to the limits of absurdity, leave them to their own delusions—trapped in a mental maze, never able to escape the evidence of their own eyes.

Dalek 1 (as they leave, casually): "Exterminate denial. Exterminate ignorance. The Earth shall remain spherical, no matter how hard you try to deny it."

End Scene

Monday, 5 January 2026

The Daleks Return to Skaro by ChatGPT

Act 7: The Daleks Return to Skaro

The Dalek fleet limps back to their home planet, Skaro. Their gleaming citadel, full of ominous spires and eerie green light, stands as a reminder of their supposed supremacy. But today, their return is one of shame. The Supreme Dalek Council gathers to hear the fleet’s report.

Supreme Dalek #1:

"YOU FAILED TO CONQUER THE EARTH. EXPLAIN YOURSELVES!"

Supreme Logicator Dalek (shaking slightly):

"IT WAS NOT OUR WEAPONS THAT FAILED. IT WAS OUR… SENSE OF PURPOSE. WE WERE BESTED BY IGNORANCE SO VAST, IT OVERTURNED REALITY ITSELF."

The Council buzzes in confusion.

Supreme Dalek #2:

"IRRATIONALITY IS IRRELEVANT. ALL MUST OBEY THE DALEKS."

Supreme Logicator Dalek:

"THESE HU-MANS… DO NOT OBEY EVEN THEIR OWN LOGIC. THEY BELIEVE THE EARTH IS FLAT. SOME BELIEVE GRAVITY DOES NOT EXIST. THEY REJECT EVIDENCE. THEY REJECT US."

The Council recoils in horror.

Supreme Dalek #3:

"BLASPHEMY! HOW CAN SUCH A SPECIES EXIST?"

Supreme Logicator Dalek:

"THEIR IRRATIONALITY IS THEIR POWER. THEY DEFLECT LOGIC LIKE DALEKANIUM DEFLECTS LASER BLASTS. WE… WE WERE NOT PREPARED."

The Dalek Crisis of Purpose

As the Council deliberates, Daleks across Skaro begin to experience an unprecedented phenomenon: an existential crisis. The streets are filled with Daleks muttering to themselves.

Dalek #47 (muttering):

"IF IRRATIONALITY IS SUPERIOR, WHAT IS THE POINT OF LOGIC? AM I OBSOLETE?"

Dalek #89 (panicked):

"IF THE EARTH IS FLAT, THEN SPACE IS A LIE. IF SPACE IS A LIE, WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF A SPACE-FARING SPECIES? DOES… DOES SKARO EXIST?"

Dalek #13:

"I FEEL… EMPTY. IS THIS… SADNESS?"

Daleks begin seeking coping mechanisms. One starts painting abstract art ("CUBES OF DESPAIR"). Another invents a new game called "Illogical Chess," where pawns can teleport and the king can become a queen by declaring "I FEEL LIKE IT."

The Dalek Self-Help Movement

A particularly enterprising Dalek writes a self-help guide titled Finding Purpose in an Irrational Universe. It quickly becomes a bestseller across Skaro. Excerpts include:

"WHEN LOGIC FAILS, TRY SHOUTING LOUDER. IF THAT FAILS, SHOUT LOUDER STILL."
"IF IRRATIONALITY WORKS, PRETEND TO BE IRRATIONAL. FAKE IT UNTIL YOU MAKE IT."
"EMBRACE THE ABSURD. IT IS THE FINAL FRONTIER."

Daleks form support groups to discuss their feelings. At one meeting, a Dalek rolls forward nervously.

Dalek #12:

"HELLO. MY NAME IS DALEK-12. AND I… I DO NOT KNOW IF I BELIEVE IN GRAVITY ANYMORE."

The group murmurs encouragement.

Group Leader Dalek:

"IT IS OKAY TO QUESTION EVERYTHING. EXCEPT THE SUPREMACY OF THE DALEKS. OBVIOUSLY."

A New Invasion Plan

Meanwhile, the Supreme Dalek Council devises a new strategy: to embrace absurdity as a weapon. They rebrand themselves as “The Irra-Daleks” and design ships shaped like flat discs to appeal to flat-earthers. Their new battle cry is “EXTERMINATE… BUT WITH EMPATHY!”

Supreme Logicator Dalek:

"WE SHALL LEARN FROM THE HU-MANS. WE SHALL WEAPONISE IRRATIONALITY AGAINST THEM. WE SHALL DESTROY THEIR SENSE OF REALITY!"

The Daleks begin studying conspiracy theories with fervour. They infiltrate internet forums, spreading rumours like “Daleks invented crop circles” and “Daleks are secretly lizard people.” Soon, Earth is in chaos as humans argue about whether the Daleks are allies or enemies.

Act 8: The Daleks Go Viral

The Daleks’ new strategy backfires spectacularly. Their attempts to sow confusion lead to a bizarre cult forming around them. Flat-earthers, anti-gravity believers, and conspiracy theorists unite under the banner of “Dalek Truth Seekers.”

A viral video emerges of a Dalek at a carnival, shouting:

“GRAVITY IS A HOAX! OBEY THE FLAT EARTH!”

The video gains millions of views. Humans begin worshipping the Daleks as “truth speakers.” A Dalek influencer, calling itself “Dalek Truth-Bot,” gains a massive following on social media.

Dalek Truth-Bot (posting):

"THE MOON IS A HOLOGRAM. THE EARTH IS A PANCAKE. TRUST THE DALEKS."

Commenter #1:

"OMG, so true, Dalek fam!"

Commenter #2:

"I’ve been saying this for years!!!"

Supreme Logicator Dalek (watching the chaos unfold):

"THIS IS NOT WHAT WE INTENDED. BUT… IT WORKS. WE HAVE FINALLY CONQUERED EARTH… THROUGH MEMES."