@Technics 1210 was unusually quiet at work. Gone was his usual chatter, his lighthearted banter that filled the office corridors. He sat at his desk like a man carrying the weight of ten worlds, his face tight, his eyes sunken. No small talk, no jokes, not even a casual “chai break?” to his colleagues. Something was clearly gnawing at him.
And deep down, there was indeed a battle raging. It was the cursed new car. Oh, how he had once admired it—sleek, shiny, smelling of fresh leather and new beginnings. But now? Now it had revealed its true nature. Every week, a new calamity: one day a sensor died, the next day another light on the dashboard blinked to life like some evil omen. The bloody machine had become a mechanical demon, sucking his money, his patience, and possibly his sanity. He no longer saw it as a car—it was a parasite on four wheels, a devil’s chariot disguised as modern engineering.
He stared blankly at his computer screen, drowning in silent despair, when suddenly his eyes caught something odd on the stock market ticker. He blinked once, then twice. Wait… what was this madness?
Reckitt Benckiser Group plc (RBGLY)—a boring, sluggish stock he had bought 18 months ago for pennies—had suddenly QUADRUPLED in value.
At first, he thought the screen was broken, maybe another cursed sensor haunting him, this time in digital form. But no, the numbers were real. RBGLY was soaring like a rocket, shooting straight past the stars. His pulse quickened, his palms grew sweaty. For the first time in months, luck was on his side. With frantic, almost trembling hands, he clicked “SELL.” Within seconds, his account balance exploded into a figure he hadn’t dared dream of since his last visit to the cursed auto repair shop.
But the question remained—
why? Why had RBGLY suddenly risen like dough in a hot tandoor? The analysts gave vague reasons about “market shifts” and “unexpected consumer demand.” But the truth was far stranger.
The astronomical rise in value was traced back to one product alone: Gaviscon Double Action. Sales had gone through the roof, clearing shelves faster than sanitizers during a pandemic. Pharmacies were begging for restocks, and factories were running 24/7 just to keep up.
And the culprit? None other than “the Sanghees.”
Yes, the very same Sanghees who had been led into the world of kebabs by the mysterious
@uppercut . Alongside his right-hand man
@Vikram1989 and their ever-expanding crew, they had been haunting Bossman’s kebab shop like insatiable spirits. Doners, shish kebabs, chicken tikka, lamb seekh—nothing was safe from their relentless appetites. They ate and ate, not once, not twice, but sometimes thrice in the same day. Their devotion to kebabs bordered on the supernatural, and their digestive systems had only one ally—Gaviscon Double Action.
So while Bossman struggled to keep up with meat supplies, somewhere across the corporate world, the accountants at Reckitt Benckiser were popping champagne bottles, completely unaware of the true force behind their record-breaking sales.
And thus, without even knowing it,
@Technics 1210 had profited from the holy alliance of kebabs and heartburn relief. His cursed car was still a demon, yes, but now he had a fortune fattened by kebabs, reflux, and the Sanghees.
The events in this universe, it seems, are not random at all. They are woven together in strange, greasy, and hilarious ways.