Thats cracking

You know when you have an idea but you are completely unsure of the direction of it mixed with how you will accomplish it, so instead of sitting down, whipping out some paper and a pen, and finding a logical way to create this concept, you just dive in and work it out as it occurs, basing everything on a previous mistake to try and overcorrect the design so it would kinda work. I don't know how planes work, but in my mind, if I had a wing too small or added an imperfection like cutting the wrong part, I could just overcorrect the other side, and it would balance it out. I know that's just not how it all works.

The way this story starts is rather unpredictable.

But first, I'd like to state the rules of the egg drop. There wasn’t any other than the fact that the egg couldn't be boiled. So some of my first ideas were pretty extreme. The only reason I didn't go with them is the fact that it's not very imaginative to buy an umbrella and attach an egg to it. My logic behind this one was I know if I jumped off a second-story balcony with an umbrella, it probably wouldn’t reduce the speed of my impact—it would be rather useless. However, I know I weigh slightly more than an egg, so it should be fine. Or just buying a kite and a basket to carry this egg safely to the ground. There are lots of things you can do; some of the entries were unique but somehow worked.

When I need to think of an idea, I always go on a walk, as I think a clear mind produces the best ideas. The great idea in this egg drop concept was to go bin diving. Not as fun as it sounds. When someone says bin diving, I always think maybe it was once an Olympic sport where people would dive into bins and swim around till they found a certain piece of trash. This would have been an Olympic sport until they found out what water was and the fact that you could hold enough water in a tub to use it as a pool. However, it was much less glamorous. The prize wasn't a day-old sandwich or a half-eaten apple; it was, in fact, two pieces of bamboo. A light flickered in my brain—to attach these two sticks together in a cross sort of shape. Not for religious purposes, but for plane-like tendencies. The idea was set, and the method just started putting itself together.

However, soon came the realization. Being in the middle of some islands, there is a lack of scissors. If I looked around the island, I could probably find a shop that sells them. However, there was no time in my brain, so I did what any sane person would do, I think, and got the largest and sharpest knife physically possible. My thought was not to cut the cardboard like a potato but to use it like a scalpel. So there I was, holding a knife like a pencil, trying to cut cardboard and not scar the table below. It was a stressful environment. The main cuts I did with the knife, and then I used my hands to try and sculpt the tough, sturdy piece of cardboard. It was like trying to sculpt a stone into a statue of Jesus with no tools. You knew it wouldn't work, but if you kept smashing the rocks together, eventually, you would get something different from what you started.

Then, coming to the adhesives in the matter. I had rope to tie the bamboo together for reliability, and then superglue to try and attach the bamboo to the cardboard wings. Surprisingly, glue sticks hard. It got to a point where I opened the new tube and cut into it by accident. I proceeded to superglue a few fingers together. Instead of backing down and risking not finishing but savoring my hands from an eternity of waving, I decided to press on. I kept unsticking and resticking my hands together multiple times. By that point, I knew I had used most of the glue on myself. I resorted to the rope and just tied everything together, hoping my experiences in scouts might come in handy.

The creation was done. A full-on glider with two sets of wings, an undercarriage resembling an Emirates first-class seat. My enormous beauty was finally ready to set off on its travels. The only issue I kinda had was the fact it was quite top-heavy, which isn't great for an egg drop.

Some of my competitors had some quite intense designs. For example, one I didn't think would work was a Pringles can attached to a plastic bag. The egg sat in the Pringles can with the Pringles, but this idea allowed the Pringles to break and take most of the impact. The bag didn't get much inflation, but I don't think it was an issue. The Pringles can fall rather fast, smashing into the concrete. Then we have some engineering masterpieces like crumble zone technology, sort of like a car’s front end when there's a head-on collision—the body folds like an accordion and won’t damage the things held inside. The idea and the marketing to explain this creation gave me so much hope, yet it didn't last long, and the impact sent shudders through the egg’s crust. A failed attempt. Final mention was inspired by Apollo 14’s design for the recovery capsule—a structural parachute designed to capture the wind and allow it to fill and brace the impact. It worked very well.

Normally, you should save the best for last. However, in this instance, my glider was set to go second, as the long, eerie wait to the ever-dreading doubt that this would go pear-shaped set in. I kept thinking, if this egg breaks, I will look very stupid, and my overcomplicated idea will be nothing but a facade to my stupidity. The maiden voyage of the plane would be the first test flight as well, which obviously wouldn't be allowed in the real world.

"We have built you this plane, haven't tested it, nor know if it will stay in the air, but good luck."

The cardboard would become soggy and heavy if I were to test it and it landed in the sea. I also had a sneaky suspicion it wouldn't work. Anyways, the moment arrives. I plant the egg in the cockpit and lock it in. I give directions on how this glider should be thrown based on what I think could work, but honestly, I didn't have a clue. Drum roll.

The plane is sent into the sky. Utter shock and beguilement were missing, mainly because the plane snagged on the roof as it was thrown and proceeded to cascade vertically down like a bad skier. It didn't go as well as anyone thought. I sprinted over to see if it had survived the journey, and luckily, it had. What a relief—but my god, was it a shit plane. It looked amazing, but boy, did it not work. Turns out, balancing a bad design with another bad design doesn’t cancel it out. It just makes a really good-looking failure

I had a rethrow just to get some idea of what went wrong. Obviously, without the egg, I didn't want to risk the break. It made it a few feet before the nose turned to the sky, and it just fell out of the air, shattering my dreams as an aircraft builder.