Tom Henderson stood on the edge of the Grand Canyon, holding his phone like it was a detonator. Behind him, his best friend Gary whispered, “Man, one more step back and you’ll have the most viral video in history.”

Tom grinned. “That’s the point! Extreme yoga, Edge Edition.” He bent one knee, extended his arms, and wobbled dangerously. The wind picked up like it had a grudge.

Gary’s eyes widened. “Dude, it’s a live stream. Maybe chill?”

“Gary,” Tom said, adjusting his balance, “if you want to be someone, you gotta live on the edge.” His foot slipped.

Gary screamed, lunging forward, but Tom didn’t fall. He froze mid-air, hovering six inches below the rim, horizontally suspended like an action figure.

They blinked at each other.

“Um,” Tom said. “Is this gravity taking a break?”

Gary leaned over, squinting. “You landed on a selfie stick.”

Tom craned his neck. Sure enough, wedged perfectly between rocks was a forgotten selfie stick from some other reckless tourist.

Gary burst out laughing so hard he nearly fell himself. “You’re literally being saved by someone else’s Instagram dreams.”

Tom dragged himself back up, covered in sand, dignity leaking like a punctured balloon. He looked back at the canyon and muttered, “That’s it. From now on, I do yoga in the living room.”

Gary wiped a tear. “Nah, man. You live on the edge, just try not to monetize it next time.”