April 9, 2023—Miami Beach, Florida

Brunch at a Waffle House seemed like the tamest thing to do for Florida and Georgia to end their spring break together. However, nothing cured a hangover better than a plate of chicken and waffles, plus a refreshing bottle of orange juice to revitalize the senses. Hardly anybody in the South could say no to that, not even an American alligator.

"Here ya go, my baby Blossom~ Your favorite chicken and waffles~" Florida dropped a drumstick into the chomping jaws of her cold-blooded swamp cat, attracting strange looks from tourists while restaurant staff continued to work like this was business as usual.

Georgia did her best to put up with all this unnecessary drama surrounding their table, feigning a face of composure while calmly sipping her iced tea. After a while, she cleared her throat slightly, getting the Floridian's attention. "I suppose you're feelin' a lot better after everything that happened at the beach club last night."

"Ah, yeah..." She blushed. "About that, I didn't cause too much trouble, did I?"

"Not much, darlin'..." Georgia muttered with sarcasm, recalling the chaotic events of that night. "Promise me you won't binge drink like that again, alright?"

"Sure, but I was in a hurry to get my fill of drinks before the midnight curfew."

"Well, I was in a hurry to get you out of there before you jumped into the pool in your birthday suit." She pouted. "Lest you'd forgotten what happened afterward, you should know I had the displeasure of carrying your drunken butt to bed and cleaning up the trail of burk you left in your house afterward."

"You cleaned up my burk?" She groaned into the palms of her hands, covering her face in deep shame. "Ugh... You shouldn't have, Peaches..."

"Oh, but I did..." She sipped her iced tea. "You owe me big time."

"Yeah..." She smiled sheepishly. "How about I treat you to a vacation in the Bahamas? Does December of next year sound good?"

"Um..." Georiga raised a brow. "Why there, and why December of next year?"

"Ah, well, you see ... I got tickets to Fyre Festival II, so—"

"You did not." She glowered, unamused by what she thought was a joke.

"Oh, but I did." Florida provided evidence on her phone, proving it wasn't just any random joke—it was a bad one that put her sanity into question.

"Please do yourself a favor and get a refund," Georgia advised.

"Why? The tickets were cheap to get early."

"Girl, it's a scam."

"How would know that?"

"Seriously? Do you not know better? Do you not even remember the foolery that happened at the first Fyre Festival?"

"Uh..." Florida mumbled, trying to recall fuzzy memories from seven years ago. "I think ... we had lots of fun despite it being a short vacation."

"No. Not at all. Think again."

"Huh? Was I wrong?" She scratched her head confused.

"Do you remember sleeping on a soaked mattress in one of the disaster relief tents?" Georgia hinted.

"Uh..."

"My bag was stolen that night. Remember that dumb incident?"

"That happened to you?" Florida cocked her head.

"Please tell me you remember us getting locked inside the airport, sleeping on the lobby floor without access to food, water, and air conditioning."

"Um... We still had fun, right?"

"You thick dummy thicc dummy!" She facepalmed in frustration. "Why did I bother to remind you? You were heavily drinking rum and vodka the whole time while I struggled to stay sane in order to survive and get us out of that unorganized mess."

"Oh, yeah," Florida giggled. "I did remember someone handing out free bottles of rum and vodka. That was cool. Haha..."

Georgia groaned, "I hate that I had a gut feeling about the festival beforehand. It was too good of a deal to be real, yet..." She sighed. "I can't believe I accepted that ticket when I should've known better not to take any gift from you as a blessing."

"But I gave you that ticket to cheer you up since you were still super depressed about 28–3."

"Sure, that was your intention..."

"Oh, c'mon. I didn't plan it as a prank. I actually thought it was going to be a blast for the both of us."

"Uh-huh..." She slowly sipped her iced tea.

☆☆☆☆☆

September 5, 2023—Black Rock Desert, Nevada

The default world seemed brighter and much cleaner compared to the chaotic blight that was Burning Man 2023. All it took was a few inches of rain to ruin the foundation of Black Rock City (BRC), transforming the desert lake into a big puddle of muddy misery for more than 87,000 Burners. Many glampers were forced to stay put in their camps and villages since driving out of the playa was prohibited until the end of Labor Day weekend. Still, that didn't stop many others from taking the risk of leaving early and getting themselves stuck in the muck like total morons. After all, these average fans from the richest and whitest enclaves of Silicon Valley arrived here with the highest expectation of experiencing a Coachella-like Burning Man, not Flooding Man. They weren't like the average enjoyers, the Bohemian veterans who managed to survive without abandoning the event's ten principles over a little shower. Those people remained dedicated to supporting their community, continuing to express themselves and their absurd artwork until they burned the Man. After that, when weather conditions finally improved for safe passage to civilization, they began to exit in mass exodus with a great feeling of relief and fulfillment.

'Great... There seems to be more trash compared to last year...' Nevada thought groggily in mild annoyance, trudging down the wet avenues of a near desolate city with hands in gloves and feet in rubber boots. He took account of the environmental damages done to the playa after a hectic week of human activity. Though honestly, he would rather not be here in the middle of a muddy desert basin dealing with this, considering he avoided taking part in this year's event. However, such was an obligation that needed to be done for the sake of preserving the natural landscape. Otherwise, he would get blasted by constant calls from D.C. who wasn't keen on cleaning up after a bunch of celebrities and influencers.

"FUCK THOSE ASSHOLES! I HOPE THEY GET EBOLA!"

A loud and annoying outcry suddenly broke out from one of the large ivory bell tents, catching Nevada's interest and some of the remaining 36,000 Burners' unexpected attention. He thought it sounded familiar, and he was right on the money. After some searching, he spotted the messy blonde ponytail of a young woman, wearing a brown tube top and a long leopard-printed loincloth with plastic bags covering her shoes, sitting at a makeshift bar with her phone out to recount some morning drama to members of an all-girl camp called Black City Barbies.

One person named Pinky, dressed in a pink African wild dog fursuit, asked, "Aren't you being overly dramatic about this? I know those jerks took the RV and left without telling you, but yelling like a butthurt jackal isn't going to help your shitty situation."

"Perhaps, but inflating this dumb drama will most definitely get me more views on YouTube." California gave a half-hearted shrug as she paused the recording on her iPhone. "It'll help pay for the expenses of attending this hella expensive prison camp, so no worries about that at least."

The thirteen-year veteran leader tightly fitted in a zebra-striped bodysuit, Miss Dolly, cackled in amusement. "Damn, Lemon Pop. You sure got over them losers pretty quick."

"Well, I kinda expected a camp called Circle Jerk (unassociated with the Circle J Inconvenience Store) to act like a circle of jerks when I joined them."

"What? Seriously?" Booty, another member in their early twenties sporting nothing other than a pair of giraffe-printed thigh-high boots, gaped at her in disbelief.

"I know, but they were super hot and—"

"Were you hoping to lure them to ATTOL (And Then There's Only Love) or someplace like that?"

"Yeah, if not for rain ruining my plans." She pouted. "Can't believe I even said that."

Pinky snickered, "You're such a stupid slut."

"Ugh! I know, right!" California groaned, planting her chin on the wooden counter. "I went through the trouble of coming here to get hot and excited in a dome with so many like-minded people, only to end up alone and aching in a sad wet tent the whole weekend."

"Boo-hoo."

"It's an injustice, I tell you! For someone like me to miss out on getting freaky with another hottie at Burning Man is, like, a total crime!"

"Calm your tits, Lemon Pop," Booty said with rolled eyes. "If you feel that bad about being down this bad, I suggest you go around the city and find someone willing to give their consent in a tent. With the mass exodus taking forever and the temple burn happening tonight, there's still enough time for you to end your experience here on a high note."

"That's true," California sighed, "but it's going to take me, like, an eternity to find someone who meets my high standards."

"Maybe not," Miss Dolly smirked. "There was an e-boy-looking punk with silver hair and metal piercings peeping into our tent earlier who seemed to be checking you out."

"E-boy-looking punk with silver hair and metal piercings? Where?" Her eyes lit up as does her mood. Without saying another word to the group, she rushed out of the luxurious tent, staring down both sides of the street until she spotted a person who matched that description with a playful smile on her face. "Oh my gosh! Hey! Over here!" She shouted and waved to get his attention.

'Damn it...' Nevada grumbled to himself, having previously thought he could sneak away without attracting her attention. Too bad for the Silver State, the Black City Barbies ratted out his presence, forcing him to turn around and awkwardly acknowledge his fellow state with a conversation. "Oh. Hey, Cali..."

"It's Lemon Pop, Blackjack!" California giggled as she gave him a quick hug. "Anyway, I didn't expect you to be here."

"Yeah... The same goes for you... Are you waiting out the mass exodus, or are you waiting to watch the temple burn tonight?"

"Actually," she twiddled her fingers, "I got ditched by my shitty campmates, so my plans on heading back to the world are, like, on hold at the moment."

"Oh, that fucking sucks... Good luck with that, I guess..." He turned his body slightly just as she suddenly grabbed his arm by surprise.

"Hang on. Can you give me a ride to the airport? I'll gift you, of course—with my body if you'd like." She smirked and winked.

"Uh, you know, exchanging favors is largely discouraged at Burning Man," Nevada said candidly.

"Okay then," California smiled unbothered. "I'll just gift you with no strings attached. How about it? Does that sound hella good?"

"Well..." Nevada thought of turning her down until an idea popped into his head, changing his attitude to no longer see her as a nuisance. "As long as you don't mind, I guess a helping hand would be nice."

"Oh? You want me to give you a hand—"

"Here." He handed her a big plastic bucket.

"Huh?" She blinked her dumbfounded eyes.

"It's going to take a month for me and the Playa Restoration team to get rid of all this MOOP (Matter Out Of Place)." He directed his gaze to the reckless abandonment of cars, bikes, tents, sleeping bags, mattresses, trash bags, muddy boots, and steel skeletons of shade structures that litter the desert basin. "If you're a true Burner, you won't mind sticking around and lending me a hand in the communal effort to leave no human trace on the playa, yeah?"

"Boy, you're such a tease!" California pouted and whined.

~ America... ~

Hey, hey, papa, get me a Coke!
Hey, hey, mama, hey, hey, mama!
I cannot forget the taste of that
Shrimp and grits I ate so long ago!

Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Hello, I'm Georgia!

Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Looking closely, that's the Earth!
Or maybe, that's the Earth?
I am the Peach State!

Ah, with just a brushstroke,
A wonderful world can be seen!
The Empire State of the South!
I am Georgia!

☆☆☆☆☆

+ Fyre Festival II was announced by its founder to be making a return in December 2024, with its first batch of 100 tickets being sold out within a day, much to the surprise of everyone who had witnessed the fraudulent shit show that was the first Fyre Festival in 2017.

- For all intents and purposes, I won't go into detail about the failed music festival in the hopes of writing an episode about it in the future. However, feel free to look it up if you happen to not know about it. It's quite ridiculous, to say the least.

+ Burning Man is a week-long large-scale desert campout held annually before Labor Day in the Western United States, traditionally in the Black Rock Desert of Nevada since 1991. It originally began as a small bonfire ritual on the summer solstice in the 1980s, but it has since transformed into a "countercultural revelry" of art, activities, and events focused on the ten stated principles of radical inclusion, gifting, decommodification, radical self-reliance, radical self-expression, communal effort, civic responsibility, leaving no trace, participation, and immediacy. Although, according to organizers, it has controversially become an "excuse to party in the desert." What was formerly "an underground gathering for bohemians and free spirits of all stripes ... has since evolved into a destination for social media influencers, celebrities, and the Silicon Valley elite ... who are perceived as more passive than active." So much so that it has muddied the intentions and perceptions of this event, especially in 2023 with environmental protestors denying access to the event and heavy rainfall causing a harrowing exodus of attendees who cannot endure the muddy conditions. Still, Burning Man manages to attract thousands of Burners with all kinds of distinct art and performances.

~

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