Lady Minerva, a wealthy hermaphrodite with a sharp wit and a penchant for luxury, strides toward her enormous car, her steps echoing across the stone. She climbs in, balancing atop a plush booster cushion, squinting to see over the dashboard. The engine stubbornly refuses to turn, and with a sigh she pops the bonnet, checks the battery, and slips on the oil, landing hard on a spanner, her cries echoing off the manor walls.
Mr. Higgins, the local mechanic—broad-shouldered, kindly, and perpetually flustered—arrives in record time. "Is this schadenfreude? My luck is dreadful today." "Let's see what I can do, Lady Minerva." They share a cup of tea, but the mechanic spills his drink, scalding his lap. Both wince in mutual discomfort. After a flurry of tools and muttered curses, the car roars to life. "Off to the beach then, ma'am?" "Yes, if I hurry, I might catch the last bit of sun—and perhaps a drink to ease the pain!" With a chuckle and a wave, she sets off.
Lady Minerva takes a deep breath, only to inhale a fly. She sputters, spits, and a passing seagull cackles, dropping a surprise from the sky onto her shoulder. "What a schadenfreude day!" She heads to the ice cream van, its faded paint streaked with grime. "Two ice creams, please." The vendor hands over the cones, but her botoxed lips send the treat tumbling onto the sand. Disappointed, she refuses a replacement and walks along the shore, sitting on a sharp shell as nearby beachgoers snicker.
Determined to salvage the day, Lady Minerva wades into the sea, gasping as frigid water shocks her senses. A slick of sewage floats ominously closer, but she escapes just in time, only to be stung by a jellyfish. Seaweed clings to her hair, sand creeps into every crevice, and as she trudges back, rain pours from a sudden storm, drenching her as she seeks refuge beneath the Helter Skelter ride.
A child on the ride above loses their lunch, and it splatters down beside Lady Minerva. She sighs, reading a sign: ‘No More Donkey Rides, Due to legal legislation’. Looking skyward, she catches a glimpse of a shooting star, whispering a wish that at least the worst is over. For a moment, hope flickers as the rain slackens.
Lady Minerva devours her pizza, only to burn her mouth in her haste. Searching for water, she trips and lands sprawled on the floor, alone with her discomfort. A gurgling in her stomach sends her rushing to the bathroom, but she finds no toilet paper as food poisoning strikes from the ill-fated ice cream. "Oh schadenfreude!" she groans, before finally settling into bed, clutching a book on German language, pondering what tomorrow might bring.
Bruised and weary, Lady Minerva smiles, reflecting on the absurdity of her day. "What a schadenfreude day it’s been! If anyone had seen me, they’d have laughed for hours!" Drifting into sleep, she dreams in German, waking to a glorious sunrise. "Oh no, I speak fluent German! Das ist einfach meine Schadenfreude."
