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NANTUCKET LIT PHLOG

BOTOBER DAY 1: NOODLE JUICE

NJB // 2025-10-01 // Lafayette, CO

© 2025 Nicholas Bernhard

CC-BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/)

*Normally, I would not use AI for my writing, even for writing prompts. In this
case, these hellish little prompts have a certain charm to them, and I thought
I would give them a try.*

*Botober is a series of art prompts for October, found at*
*aiweirdness.com/tiny-jello/* (https://aiweirdness.com/tiny-jello/). *These
prompts come from a primitive AI that was trained on nothing but 800 jello
recipes.*

*Normally, I would not use AI for my writing, even for writing prompts. In this
case, these hellish little prompts have a certain charm to them, and I thought
I would give them a try.*

“NOODLE JUICE”

John Buren tried to keep his mind off of 800,000 cans of chicken broth in a
warehouse at Denver International Airport. *Pre-visualization*, they called it.
*Use your mental powers to make it happen. See it! Believe it! Achieve it!* He
press 'play' on the video, the board members focused their attention, and John,
VP of Frontera Holdings, willed it to work. 

In the commerial playing on the TV, kids ollied and wheelied their way through
a skate park to an alt-rock soundtrack. Little Justin missed his jump, and went
crashing down into the concrete bowl. 

"Sick wipeout, man!" says a frosted-tip lad. 

Justin winces as he gets up. "I'm just not feeling it today."

"Well then feel *this*" says Frosted Tip, tossing a silver object at Justin.
Justin grabs the aluminum can out of the air as the soundtrack plays a guitar
lick.

"Wow!" says Justin, "NOODLE JUICE!" 

Now fifty kids in the skate park raised their cans of Noodle Juice. Back in the
board room, men and women in suits turned from the TV set to exchange nervous
looks. 

The children pull the tabs on their cans and thick, brown soup broth is guzzled
up by teenage mouths. "Noodle Juice!" yells the narrator, "It's got 65
essential vitamins and minerals, and keeps you goin' when *you're* goin!" 

Little Justin grinds a rail toward the camera, ready to take on the world.
"Noodle Juice," he exclaims, "It's the juice for your noodle!"

The VCR paused on Justin's unhinged grin, teeth slightly brown with Noodle
Juice. John Buren stepped in front of the TV. Now he would own this moment. 

"You know what I think?" said John, his voice cracking slightly. "When Frontera
Holdings buys a bankrupt company's assets and liabilities, and the lawyers
didn't notice the part about the chicken broth warehouse, *John Buren here*
thinks OPPORTUNITY. This is mom's chicken soup when you're on the go, when
you're workin' out, when you need a snack... The nutrition in those cans is
going to take the young generation back to the moon. They'll be so fortified
we'll go straight to Mars." He felt his sweaty socks slipping around in his
dress shoes.

"This isn't an eight-million-dollar writeoff, nooooo. This is *our time*, this
is *our world*, and let's turn that warehouse into the future. Who's ready to
GET JUICED?" 

John felt the speech was so good, he gave an encore to the airport teamsters at
the warehouse from atop the mountain of broth cans. Even the airport security
who removed him had to admit it inspired them. 


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