The “Sunny Day Flyers,” the biggest club in the sprawling metropolis of England, was ironically known for its members’ inherent laziness. Their claim to fame was the country-wide delivery of top notch events they’d pioneered, fuelled by the governor , grants and a knack of track knowledge. Now, this year, the drones buzzed tirelessly, delivering everything from broken gates , loose batteries and café food, while the club members mostly lounged, basking in the fruits of their initial ingenuity. Today, however, was different.

Today was the club’s first ever summer event: “sunny day flyers Airborne Extravaganza,” a dazzling display of drone acrobatics. The pressure was on. Bartholomew “Barty” Butterfield, a man whose dedication to napping rivaled his love for drones, was reluctantly appointed coordinator. He grumbled, twitching his left eye, a telltale sign of extreme stress. “Right, team,” he mumbled, adjusting his perpetually askew spectacles. “Remember the plan? Drones launch, lights flash, music plays, applause happens. Minimal effort required.” His team, a motley crew of tech whizzes and certified couch potatoes, mostly nodded, eyes glued to their smartphones. Penelope “Penny” Plumtree, the club’s resident food guru, was tasked with managing her own drone . She was currently arguing with the governor that had tried to autonomously advice her what to do. “No, governor, I shall not!” Across the table, Reginald “Reggie” Rafferty, the club’s resident sound engineer, was attempting to download a royalty-free EDM track. He’d been promising to create a custom score for the event for weeks, but his creative process seemed to involve an endless loop of barbie girl and YMCA. The time to fly finally arrived, bathed in the golden glow of a perfect sunny day. the field was set. the sunny flyers, eager for a spectacle, spread out on chairs, their minds overflowing with needs. Barty, sweating profusely, paced behind the control tent.

The show began. The drones, gleaming under the afternoon sun, lifted off with a synchronized whir. For a blissful moment, everything worked. The drones danced in the sky, forming intricate pattern though gates shimmering in the bright sunlight. Then, disaster struck. Penny, still distracted by governor advice , accidentally clicked the wrong switch. Instead of the synchronized acrobatics routine, her drone began performing a chaotic jig, bumping into every gate and flailing wildly.Reggie, jolted awake by the commotion, accidentally unplugged the sound system while trying to swat a fly. The silence was deafening, broken only by the panicked buzzing of the rogue drones and the collective murmurs of the confused crew.Barty felt a migraine building. This was it. The Sunny Day Flyers’ flown rounds could be lost forever. But then, something unexpected happened. One of the drone flyers, seemingly on his own accord, started mimicking a clumsy, yet endearing, penny. Others followed suit, creating a chaotic, improvisational ballet. barty confused, began to laugh. The sheer absurdity of the situation was infectious.

Seeing the drones floundering, Reggie, in a moment of uncharacteristic inspiration, grabbed his microphone and began beatboxing. His improvised rhythm, surprisingly catchy, perfectly complemented the drones’ erratic movements. Penny, realizing the error of her ways, quickly corrected her throttle cap, her drone to respond to her movements correctly. The drone, now guided by the impromptu music, she began to get laps in The governor, cracked a small smile. The Sunny Day Flyers, despite their laziness, had somehow pulled it off. Perhaps, he thought, a little bit of chaos and a whole lot of sunshine was all they needed. And maybe, just maybe, they’d earned a celebratory nap.