Most people rely on GPS to get from point A to point B.
Me? I rely on mine to get me into the weirdest situations possible.
It all started this morning when I was supposed to pick up my cousin from the airport. Easy, right? Punch in the address, follow the soothing robotic voice, and boom—problem solved.
Except today, my GPS had other plans.
"Turn left," it instructed.
Left? That led to an abandoned carnival. No thank you. I ignored it.
"Recalculating… Make a U-turn at your earliest convenience."
Fine. Maybe it was glitching. I turned around.
"Proceed straight for 0.5 miles."
Straight led me to a giant field filled with goats in tiny pajamas. Yep. Pajamas.
A farmer waved at me like this was normal. "Welcome to the Pajama Goat Festival! You here for the competition?"
"What competition?"
"Fastest goat wins a prize!"
Before I could say no thanks, a goat named Biscuit took off running—with my car keys in its mouth.
"Hey!" I chased after the tiny thief, dodging hay bales and tripping over a miniature obstacle course. Biscuit was FAST. I swore it cackled at me.
A woman in a sparkly vest handed me a lasso. "Gotta earn your keep, city boy!"
Next thing I knew, I was riding a giant inflatable duck (don’t ask) and swinging the lasso like a cowboy, while Biscuit launched itself over hurdles like an Olympic champion.
Then—out of nowhere—my GPS spoke again.
"Make a left onto Runaway Goat Avenue."
I froze. "Excuse me?"
"You’re falling behind. Increase speed."
The farmer patted my back. "Listen to the machine, son."
I couldn’t argue with logic like that.
After fifteen minutes of absolute madness, Biscuit finally surrendered my keys. I stumbled back to my car, exhausted, covered in hay, and somehow holding a trophy for ‘Best Unintentional Rodeo Performance.’
I collapsed in the driver’s seat and turned on my GPS.
"Continue straight to your destination," it said calmly, as if it hadn’t just ruined my life.
Never trusting technology again.
#sparksfly #creativewriting #shortstory #humor #contest #hive #adventure #creativesparks
