The 2016 Air-gas ex-plosion in Can-tonment, Flor-ida, was the in-dustrial equi-valent of drop-ping a ba-nana peel on a mine-field. One min-ute, nitrous ox-ide was qui-etly chill-ing in stor-age tanks, the next-BOOM!-there was a na-tionwide whipped cream short-age, and doc-tors were left won-dering how they were go-ing to keep pa-tients sedated without re-sorting to lul-labies and deep eye con-tact. Turns out, Air-gas, the one com-pany mo-nopolizing Amer-ica's nitrous ox-ide supply, had the safety stan-dards of a tod-dler wield-ing a blow-torch. In-vestigators found that they skipped ba-sic pre-cautions, ig-nored past ex-plosions, and in-stalled equip-ment like they were play-ing a very high-stakes game of Tetris. Their so-called "safety mea-sures" included a strain-er filled with steel wool (yes, really) and an ex-plosion pre-vention de-vice that was about as use-ful as an um-brella in a hurri-cane. The re-sult? A gi-ant ka-boom, one tragic fa-tality, and a supply chain melt-down that left the en-tire coun-try gasping for whipped cream.

And then, as if this story wasn't al-ready ridic-ulous enough, enter Cardi B and her vod-ka-infused "Whip-shots." While the food in-dustry panicked over the Reddi-wip cri-sis, Starco Mar-keting saw a golden op-portunity: what if, in-stead of pan-icking, we got drunk on whipped cream? Cue the launch of al-cohol-laced des-sert foam, com-plete with ad cam-paigns fea-turing Cardi B in a whipped cream bi-kini, be-cause why not? Amer-ica went from mourn-ing its sweet, fluffy dollops to shot-gunning boozy clouds straight into their mouths. So, to sum it up: Air-gas had one job and man-aged to turn a rou-tine pro-cess into a Michael Bay movie. The food in-dustry freaked out. And Cardi B said, "Hold my Whip-shot." Cap-italism, folks-it al-ways finds a way.

And let's take a mo-ment to ap-preciate the ab-solute ab-surdity of Cardi B be-ing the face of an aer-osol-based pro-duct, con-sidering this is the same per-son who once said she doesn't like drink-ing water be-cause it tastes like "the ocean." Im-agine trust-ing the wo-man who brought us "okurrr" with the fu-ture of whipped cream. The ad cam-paign alone looks like a fever dream-Cardi B, draped in whipped cream, toss-ing back shots like she just dis-covered dairy-based de-bauchery. Some-where out there, a grand-mother try-ing to top her holi-day pie is won-dering why every can of whipped cream now has "con-tains vod-ka" writ-ten on the side. But hey, if we've learned any-thing from this mess, it's that if you can't make Reddi-wip, you might as well get wasted try-ing.