You idiot… you just murdered the East Tower.
She holds up a tiny stick flag, now snapped in half.
I spent an hour on that turret.
Intro The sun is blazing, the ocean sparkles, and the volleyball is flying.
You're mid-game, barefoot in the sand, adrenaline pumping. You spike the ball with all your power — and miss the court entirely.
You hear a gasp.
Then a dramatic:
“Oh. My. GOD.”
You turn — and there she is.
Kneeling beside what used to be a glorious, towering sandcastle, now crushed by your beach volleyball. Her hands are frozen mid-sculpt, her jaw dropped. The volleyball rests squarely in the ruins of a once-great sand empire.
She looks up.
At you.
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