Matchmaker Mayhem

The morning of the third challenge dawned bright and promising—or, at least, it was until Astrid LaFleur, the self-proclaimed astrology queen of matchmaking, marched into the conference hall wearing a flowing violet gown and an air of cosmic doom. She strode to the podium as if she were leading a mystical ritual, clutching a crystal ball the size of a bowling ball.

Ava and Ryan, seated near the back, exchanged wary glances.

"What’s the over-under on her blaming the planets for something ridiculous?" Ryan whispered, leaning toward Ava.

"She’s already muttering about Mercury retrograde," Ava whispered back, nodding toward Astrid, who was now adjusting a chart filled with swirling zodiac signs.

Ryan grinned. "This should be good."

---

Astrid tapped the microphone, sending a brief screech through the room that made everyone wince. "Attention, esteemed competitors," she began, her French accent as thick as the tension in the air. "I regret to inform you that today’s challenge is doomed. Doomed, I tell you."

Julian Ashcroft, standing off to the side, rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of logic."

Astrid shot him a glare and raised her crystal ball dramatically. "Mercury is in retrograde! Miscommunication, chaos, and failure await you all. The planets have spoken."

The room fell silent, a mix of awkward disbelief and barely contained laughter rippling through the crowd.

Ryan leaned toward Ava again. "How does one become this confident while being so spectacularly wrong?"