Sugar sugar baby

[23] Memed into oblivion

It didn't take long for the fallout to begin.

I knew something was wrong when, instead of the influx of new customers I was hoping for, my phone started blowing up with notifications—Twitter, Instagram, TikTok—it was like a digital avalanche, and none of it was good. Sasha and I were sitting in the restaurant, staring at our phones, watching the disaster unfold in real-time.

Sasha scrolled through Instagram, her expression going from confusion to horror as she looked at the comments flooding in. "Tristan, this... this is bad."

I opened my phone and checked Twitter, seeing the hashtag #FortniteTacoFail trending. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered, my heart sinking into my stomach.

One of the first tweets I saw came from a user named @LAFoodieCringe.

"Just saw a Fortnite dancer promote a restaurant? LMAO. What the actual fuck is happening to food in LA? 🤮#FortniteTacoFail #FlavorsOfTheWorld"

It had already been retweeted hundreds of times, and the replies were brutal.

@RamenKing24: "Can't believe I almost went to this place. Now I know why I'm glad I didn't 🤢"

@ChefSnarky: "If this is what restaurants have to do to get attention now, then we're all doomed. Fortnite dancers? Really? 👎 #FortniteTacoFail"

Sasha groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Oh God. This is worse than I thought. They're not just talking shit... they're fucking roasting us."

I scrolled through TikTok next, hoping maybe things would be different, but it was even worse. @DancerOfTheVictory's video had gone viral, but not in the way we wanted. People had started using his video to make memes. They were overlaying it with all kinds of ridiculous captions and sound effects, mocking the fact that we'd hired a Fortnite dancer to promote the restaurant.

One TikTok, posted by @BigMemeEnergy, showed the dancer flossing in front of the restaurant with the caption:

"When your restaurant's food is so bad, you gotta hire a Fortnite dancer to distract people." 💀💀💀

It had hundreds of thousands of likes, and the comments were relentless.

@CoolKidCarl: "This has got to be the cringiest thing I've ever seen. I'd rather eat gas station sushi."

@PizzaPower23: "I don't know what's worse—the Fortnite dancer or the idea of a ramen taco 🤢"

@GhostedGirl69: "New rule: If your restaurant has to hire a guy doing Fortnite dances, I'm never fucking eating there."

Sasha put her phone down and looked at me, her face pale. "We're... we're a meme, Tristan. They're not just criticizing us. They're memeing the shit out of us."

I dropped my phone on the table, leaning back in my chair, feeling the weight of the situation settle on me like a ton of bricks. "This is a fucking nightmare. We're not just getting bad reviews. We're getting destroyed."

Sasha leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. "I thought the food poisoning scandal was bad, but this... this is next level. We're a fucking joke."

I nodded, feeling a pit form in my stomach. "Yeah. And I don't know how the hell we're gonna come back from this."

The memes kept rolling in. On Instagram, someone had posted a screenshot of the dancer mid-floss with the caption:

"Flavors of the World? More like Flavors of Desperation." 🤡🤡🤡

On Twitter, the jokes kept coming.

@HotSauceHater: "Imagine being so down bad that you hire a Fortnite dancer to save your restaurant. 💀#FortniteTacoFail"

@FoodieFailBot: "This is the kind of shit you see when a restaurant is about to go under. Fortnite dances won't save your nasty-ass food, bro. 💀👋 #FortniteTacoFail"

Sasha looked up from her phone, her expression a mix of disbelief and anger. "We thought this would help. We thought he'd bring in some foot traffic... instead, it's like he's just given people more ammo to shit on us."

I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. "We've got to do something. We can't just sit here and watch this happen."

Sasha sighed, staring down at her phone like it held the answers. "What the hell can we do? We're trending for all the wrong reasons. Every time someone sees our name now, they're gonna think of a guy flossing in front of a taco."

I laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Real fucking appetizing."

Sasha's phone buzzed again, and she let out a frustrated groan. "I don't know, Tristan. At this point, we're hemorrhaging customers. The memes are out there. We can't take them back. What do we do? Hire another Fortnite dancer? Maybe get someone to do the 'Orange Justice' next time?" Her sarcasm was sharp, but I knew she was just as lost as I was.

I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands. "Fuck. We should've seen this coming. Who the hell hires a Fortnite dancer for a restaurant promotion? What the fuck were we thinking?"

Sasha shook her head, still scrolling through the endless stream of criticism and memes. "I don't know, man. We were desperate. But now... it's like we've become the punchline of every food joke in LA."

I stared out at the empty restaurant, the once-vibrant space now feeling like a hollow shell. The neon lights still glowed, but there were no customers, no energy, no life. It was just us, sitting in the aftermath of our failed promotion, watching our dream fall apart.

Sasha set her phone down and looked at me, her voice softer now. "What do we do, Tristan? Do we keep fighting, or do we cut our losses?"

I didn't have an answer. All I knew was that this was not how things were supposed to go. We had worked too hard, put too much into this restaurant to let it end like this. But the reality was staring us in the face—our reputation was in the gutter, and we didn't have much time left.

"I don't know, Sash," I finally said, my voice heavy with defeat. "I don't fking know."

She nodded, her expression resigned. "We've got a month, right? Maybe something will turn around. Maybe the memes will die down. But..."

I finished the thought for her. "But we're not holding our breath."

The silence hung between us, thick with the weight of uncertainty. I didn't know how we were going to get out of this mess, but one thing was clear—we were running out of time.

Q: What would you do next if you were Tristan?