Drinks Seawater, Sees Future Origin Story
In a drunken stupor, Carl the Flamingo decided it would be a good idea to solo captain a unicorn floatie for some late-night star gazing in the open ocean. The yacht stews and captain had all gone to bed for the night. ‘Wasn’t this supposed to be a party?! What a snoozefest!!!’ he thought to himself as he crawled onto the float while starting his third bottle of champagne. He nursed the champagne and gazed at the dazzling night sky filled with stars, the view unpolluted by city lights. The lapping water's gentle rocking and soothing sound eventually lulled Carl into a deep sleep while the float drifted further and further out to sea, away from his giant pink yacht.
Late the next afternoon, Carl awoke, the sun blazing overhead. He squinted and looked around. The yacht was nowhere to be seen. His mouth felt parched as if he’d been sucking on a giant cotton ball all night. The skin blistered around his beak. He was so very, very thirsty. Seeing the champagne bottle in his lap, a brief moment of relief came over him, but his hopes were quickly dashed when he realized the bottle was empty. ‘I guess I could drink some seawater…” he thought to himself, ‘What was the worst that could happen?! I AM a flamingo, after all. Flamingos drink seawater all the time!!!’
He filled up the empty champagne bottle with seawater and started guzzling. As he polished off the bottle, the visions started…
The pool floatie began heaving gently up and down as if it were breathing. Its body squeaked with a slippery rubber sound as it awkwardly craned its neck and turned to look at Carl, an unnatural bend appearing in its neck. Its cheerful cartoon unicorn face was menacing in the glaring sunlight.
“Yo, Carl!!! I want to know what kind of dumba$$ sunglasses CEO finds himself stranded in the middle of the ocean without a pair of sunnies?!” The floatie laughed jovially. “The name’s Rootbeer, by the way, Rootbeer S. Float.”
“What’s the ‘S’ stand for? Sarsparilla?!” Carl rolled his eyes. “‘Real original. It was the middle of the night. Duh. The sun wasn’t even out! Only Corey Hart wears sunglasses at night. Everyone knows that. I just wanted to see the stars. What’s wrong with that?!” Carl responded, indignant.
“Actually, it’s for Sassafras. Anyhow, I’m just razzing you, man. Hey, you know what would be PERFECT for this situation?! Gradient lenses.” Rootbeer said.
Carl muttered to himself under his breath, “Here we go again. Everybody’s got an opinion...” Loudly feigning interest, he asked, “OH, YEAH? Gradient lenses?! Why’s that?!”
Rootbeer responded, “You know, they’d block the glaring sunlight from above while giving you better visibility of those hungry sharks that have been circling below us for the last couple of hours!!!”
Carl looked down to see several smooth, whitish-gray bodies gliding in the water below, slowly circling the float. He hadn’t noticed them before.
“Hey, you know what?! That’s actually not a bad idea!!! It’s genius!!! It should be a navy blue pair inspired by the night sky and dark ocean below. I can see the future now, and the future IS gradient lenses!!!” Carl responded, unable to hide his excitement.
The sun was beginning to set. Feeding time for sharks. Not wanting anyone to know that these gradient lenses weren’t his idea, Carl made a hasty decision. He quickly popped the plug out of Rootbeer’s air valve and took flight. Rootbeer’s rubber body thrashed on the ocean surface as he desperately tried to pop the plug back in with his useless muzzle. It was too late. The thrashing had already drawn the attention of the hungry sharks below. “Carl, help!!! Save meeee!!!” Rootbeer cried helplessly.
“See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya!!!” Carl called as he started to fly away. A great white shark came crashing out of the water, sinking its jagged teeth into Rootbeer’s slick, wet body. Rootbeer screamed. His punctured body quickly deflated and drifted lifeless on the rippling surface.
“Gradient lenses. Gradient lenses are the future. We’ll call this navy pair Drinks Seawater, Sees Future. DON’T MENTION THE UNICORN TO ANYONE,” Carl mumbled as he flew towards the fireworks in the distance, sure they were coming from his own yacht.
“Where ya been, babe?!” Turlana asked when he joined her up on the bunny pad.
“I’ve been downstairs napping all day. Hey, you know what sounds REALLY good right now?! A rootbeer float. By the way, I dreamed up a fabulous new pair of sunnies today, all by myself. I can’t wait to tell you about them later...”
