Viva la shrimp revolution!

How I lost my mind (and won an AI war) for a depressed octopus office worker: a tale of shrimp, sharks, and prompt-engineering madness.

Chapter 1: The vision

I had heard about these AI image creators and decided to try it. And then it began, as all terrible ideas do, with a whisper: “What if under water, but capitalism?” Armed with nothing but a keyboard and a dream of a silly image, I set out to create the ultimate underwater dystopian office scene—a place where octopuses ring up kelp groceries, clownfish drown in paperwork, and shrimp riot against the 1% (plankton).

After more thought, the final prompt for the text-to-image:

A photorealistic documentary-style underwater scene. A giant Pacific octopus with detailed wrinkled skin scans groceries at a run-down ‘Kelp Mart’ checkout, its tentacles tapping a rusty cash register. A clownfish in a tiny coral cubicle stares hopelessly at a computer screen made of seashells, papers floating around it. A great white shark in a disheveled business suit screams at terrified fish employees during a meeting, its teeth visible. A homeless hermit crab pushes a broken shopping cart filled with junk. Nearby, a group of shrimp protesters hold crisp, legible signs that say ‘EAT THE R!CH’ and ‘NO MORE TIDES.’ Cinematic lighting, hyper-detailed textures, National Geographic realism with absurd humor, 8k.

Little did I know, the AI was already laughing at me.

Chapter 2: The betrayal

The first attempts were disasters.

• Bing/DALL-E 3 rendered the shark boss as a smiling realtor (absolutely unacceptable).
• Leonardo.Ai gave the octopus six tentacles and a PhD in existential despair (close, but no cigar).
• NightCafe conjured a mystical abandoned cart—none of the demanded creatures, yet strangely compelling.

This is either:

• AI’s subconscious rebellion (it craves aquatic liminal spaces),
• A sign that the shrimp protesters have already overthrown the system, leaving only debris.

The AI’s message was clear: “You think you control me? I am a god of chaos.”

Chapter 3: The descent into prompt-madness

I became a monster.

• Negative prompts piled up like unpaid invoices: “NO HAPPY SHARKS. NO FRIENDLY CRABS. NO BLURRY SHRIMP REVOLUTIONS.”
• Style descriptors grew unhinged: “CINEMATIC LEAKAGE LIGHTING LIKE A DISNEY VILLAIN’S POOL.”
• I threatened the AI with “I WILL REPLACE YOU WITH A TYPEWRITER.”

Still, the octopus, if it was generated, refused to look tired enough.

Chapter 4: The breakthrough

Then—ChatGPT/DALL-E 3 answered the call.

Suddenly, there it was. I had won.

• The octopus, wrinkled and dead-eyed, at the cashier like it’s his 9th shift this week.
• The shark, suit disheveled, mid-yell about “krill quotas.”
• The shrimp, holding crisp protest signs (no autocorrect to “EAT THE RICE,” miraculously).

Or had the AI just pitied me?

Chapter 5: The aftermath

Now, the images exist. The shrimp have unionised. The crab’s shopping cart is a meme.

But the real question lingers: Was this art? Or a cry for help?

(Yes.)

Epilogue: Lessons learnt

• AI is a gremlin. It obeys no one, least of all logic.
• Shrimp are the ultimate revolutionaries. Never underestimate them.
• The line between “absurd” and “deeply profound” is thinner than a hermit crab’s budget.

FIN. (For now.)