Processing the nightmare

"A series of unfortunate events"

Part. 3

It was a day like any other one, when everything suddenly fell apart.

We use to think that special events, both the good and the nefarious ones, coincide with some significant date, but indeed that was just a normal day.

After the 3d prints setback, we delayed the delivery from January to March, and even if for me and my pride it was a hard blow to get over, all the backers reacted incredibly well to the bad news (a thing that, despite having relieved me a lot of stress, increased my guilt).

We worked so hard to deliver the rewards as originally scheduled, because I really didn't want my campaign to be the classic "Kickstarter project that accumulates months of delay on delivery": I thought I was punished by Odin for my pride, and maybe there really was some kind of kharma-truth in my paranoia.

However, I was determined to fix that horrible situation so, to recover as much lost time as possible, I started to organize in advance my office in order to be able to speed up the delivery: having lost more than 2 months on schedule, at least I wanted to be able to ship the rewards in half the time scheduled!

I assembled in advance tons of boxes, I divided up all the resins according to the bundles composition and my girlfriend started to set up the monumental excel file with all the details of all the backers and late pledgers. We organized an incredibly efficient assembly line and to test it, we decided to start fulfilling at least the rewards we already had the resins we need for.

It is precisely in that moment, in an anonymous Tuesday morning, that I discovered the extent of a situation that, unbeknownst to me, was already apocalyptic.

When I took the first Brewmaster Beerrant, I noticed that it was horribly casted.

As we say in Italy, to explain -often ironically- that you can tell, from how things start, how they will evolve: "You can tell it's going to be a good day from the morning" (a rough translation, I know).

However, at first, I wasn't worried too much: after all, especially in a huge resin production, it's normal to find some fail-casts: maybe it was only one of the last copies made by an old mould, I thought.

I put that kit apart, and I took another one.

Another horribly casted kit.

I put apart that kit too, and I took another one.

Another horribly casted kit.

I repeat this process again and again, a sort of sadistic version of "wax-on, wax-off" designed by the Miyagi-sensei of an alternative universe that decided to stop with his bonsai-nonsenses, and to start a resin manufacturer.

The situation was far beyond my worst nightmares: after a morning spent on checking every single Brewmaster kit, I discovered that on 400 stocks only 34 were ok.

- me, trying to process the situation -

I didn't panic. Or better: