The Day Marvin Decided to Become an Influencer
Part 2
After his matcha video went viral, Marvin felt like a minor celebrity. He didn’t have a sponsorship yet, but at least his post was shared by a meme page that paid him not with money but with three laughing emojis. Still — fame is fame.
Of course, Marvin wanted to follow up. His AI recommended showing “a personal touch.” So he filmed himself doing laundry, hoping authenticity would bring him sympathy.
But in the video, his washing machine looked like a UFO about to launch — blinking lights, loud rumbling, and Marvin standing heroically beside it pretending he was in control.
He posted:
“Laundry Day — powered by Artificial Intelligence 🧼🤖✨”
Tom commented instantly:
“Bro, your machine sounds like it’s going into orbit.”
But some viewers loved it.
Someone wrote: “This is the most stressful household appliance since my thesis.”
Another: “I feel spiritually seen.”
That reinforced Marvin’s daring theory that Chaos + Camera = Content.
At the same time, he suddenly received messages:
“When’s the next reel? We need more everyday disasters!”
Marvin felt pressure for the first time. Was influencer life really glamorous? Or was it mostly about filming things before they exploded?
To calm down, he decided to try meditation. Naturally, he documented it — after all, he was an influencer.
But while positioning his camera, it fell off a book stack, landed in his teacup and recorded nothing but distorted underwater footage, as if he had entered an aquarium.
He posted it anyway.
“My Zen Journey”
Comments:
“Never has meditation been shown so accurately.”
“Water has more control than you.”
Marvin couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe he wasn’t born to produce order — but rather to create epic failure with style.
While he thought about that, his phone vibrated: A micro tea company asked whether he was interested in a collaboration.
Marvin stared at the message:
“It begins,” he murmured, feeling like a Matcha-Avenger.
But at the same time, he knew: If his next reel didn’t make some sense, the internet would drop him faster than his camera had dropped into tea.
And with that, it was clear: His adventure had only just begun.