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41. Ted stood up, rubbing his hands together with a mix of energy and nostalgia. “

Ted stood up, rubbing his hands together with a mix of energy and nostalgia. “Alright, folks, let’s talk about The Patrick Primary, the heartline of everything we’ve been building. You see, the brain learns in mysterious ways. When I’m standing up—” He chuckled at himself. “Wait, I’m always standing up, aren’t I? Scratch that—what I mean is, when you change your perspective, your brain processes things differently. Remember the Lakehead Grammar Experiment? The one Nessa and I pulled off? That was Type 1, peak performance.”

Ted’s voice softened as he glanced at Russell. “Oh, Nessa. She’s always stood by me, believed in me. My dreams were her dreams, and hers were mine. For two years, we toured schools, colleges, countless institutions, pouring our souls into our work. I’ll never forget the six northern districts we visited—it was exhausting, but it was game-changing. But then... everything dragged down. She lost heart. She got demotivated.”

Russell leaned forward, his voice blunt but understanding. “What do you expect, Ted? You give everything you’ve got, and when the results don’t match the effort, it crushes you. It’s only human.”

Ted sighed and sat down, rubbing his temples. “Not just her. Me too. I hit a wall—burnout, Russell. Total physical and mental exhaustion. It’s like you’re running on fumes, but there’s no gas station in sight.”

Russell nodded thoughtfully, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “Well, our little brainstorms here have produced something solid. Maybe we can convince those thickset, fatty fat white bears up north. Show them we’re not their competitors but their allies. Instead of hurting them, we can help them tackle burnout issues at their universities. They might actually listen.”

Ted perked up, a hint of passion returning to his voice. “That’s the key—making ourselves their best option. But to do that, we need more than promises; we need evidence, circumstantial or otherwise. They have to see that The Patrick Primary is more than just talk.”

Russell smirked. “Are we losing focus here, Ted?”

“Not at all,” Ted shot back, eyes gleaming. “The Patrick Primary is like a maglev train—straight from source to destination at maximum speed. No delays, no detours. That’s The Ted Story. Or, to put it in simpler terms: storytelling. Every student, every parent, every dreamer needs to see themselves in it. Their struggles, their passions, their failures, their successes. It has to feel like their story too.”

Ted leaned in, his voice growing animated. “But the narrative has to be real. Strong. Honest. Inspiring. None of that false hero garbage, where idols cheat their fans for fame. In The Ted Story, Nessa will be the star—leading the charge. And she won’t just be admired; she’ll be followed by millions who share our vision for something better. A new world. A better planet.”

Russell raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “A better planet? You mean Earth, right?”

Ted chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, Earth. But think bigger. Ever wonder where the iron in your blood came from?”

Russell tilted his head, confused. “You’re talking about extraterrestrial stuff now?”

“Exactly,” Ted said, pointing at him with a smile. “The atoms in your body—iron, carbon, everything—they weren’t born on Earth. They were forged in the hearts of stars, scattered across the cosmos by supernovae, and eventually collected here by gravity. We’re literally made of stardust.”

Russell leaned back, letting that sink in. “So, you’re saying... every part of me, of you, came from somewhere out there. That makes us all connected, doesn’t it? Not just to each other, but to the universe.”

Ted smiled, his voice softer now. “That’s exactly it. That’s why The Patrick Primary matters. It’s not just about education, or ambition, or success. It’s about reminding people that they’re part of something bigger. Something cosmic. Something beautiful.”

Russell sat in silence for a moment, then lifted his glass with a grin. “To stardust and maglev trains.”

Ted laughed, clinking his glass. “To storytelling and stars.”


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