On Wednesday after school, Cuba found something disturbingly wonderful in the bazaar: The Universal Reality Remote Control. The vendor, a gentleman with a moustache like a brush, muttered: "It works on batteries and courage." Cuba paid his pocket money, and the instructions were handwritten in pencil on the back. On the front, buttons glittered: Pause, Resume, Subtitle, Rewind and one menacingly red one. They chose a rehearsal scene in the schoolyard, between the benches and the juice machine. "I'm pressing Pause," Cuba announced, and Lena moved her cup away so her drink wouldn't freeze. The world jammed like a movie on an old laptop; even the bells were stuck in the air. Only a pigeon brazenly strolled over and stole half a sandwich from Kuba, flapping its wing in farewell. "Resume!" Cuba clicked, and the noise returned, as if someone had unleashed a swarm of trumpets. "Now Subtitles," Lena whispered, because they absolutely could not miss this one. Clouds of text appeared above the people, as if in a comic book without drawings. Above Staszek it said: "Pretend you know where chemistry lies today". Above the headmistress it flashed: "Silent mode: update in a moment, please prepare your nerves". And over Cuba they saw something of the worst: "The batteries in the remote control are feeling unwell". Cuba swallowed his saliva and tried "Rewind ten seconds", because curiosity is his sport. A section of the canteen queue skipped forward and someone thanked the wrong person. The remote beeped and showed a new button that didn't exist a minute ago: "Fix Error". The bell began to ring backwards, and the clouds seemed to pull the rain back into the sky. The display blinked with a warning: "Time conflict detected: apply reset? 5...4..." immediately. "Don't touch the red!" hissed Lena, but the red glowed like a strawberry advertisement for a screaming drink. The remote control whirred, split the screen in half, and added the tempting "Random Mode" button. "Three," he counted alone, and a quieter-than-quiet cinematic breathlessness fell across the courtyard. Someone grabbed Cuba's wrist and whispered: "Never press reset while updating". The voice sounded familiar, and the shadow above them lengthened like a very, very serious cloud.