Still Florida

The acrid smell of tires scraping asphalt mixed with the salty tang of the sea breeze and rushed into his nostrils.

Li Dan tugged at his backpack straps, confirming that he really was standing on Florida soil again.

The sunlight was blindingly bright, shrinking the shadows of the palm trees lining the street into thin strips across graffiti-covered walls.

Those twisted lines seemed to echo the people on the street. Every figure passing him had an elusive air of sheer weirdness.

Li Dan knew, though, that Florida had not always been like this.

In its early years, it had been an ordinary state that drew tourists with sunshine and beaches.

Its residents lived fairly low-key lives, with only a few surfing enthusiasts occasionally causing a minor stir.

But at some point, a craze for bizarre Florida stories had swept the internet.

Whether it was a drunk rambling on the street or a pet dog stealing a neighbor's newspaper, slapping "Only in the State of Florida" on the title was enough to pull in heaps of traffic.

Gradually, more and more people jumped on the bandwagon. Even out-of-state influencers came specifically to stage bizarre scenarios.

The locals had found it absurd at first, but after seeing how popular those outrageous videos were, they developed a strange competitive streak.

No matter how well you people from other states fake it, you can't beat us locals doing it for real.

And so, from street performers replacing their guitars with toilet plungers to older folks racing shopping carts through supermarkets, Floridians maxed out their stunt skills.

Young people in particular embraced this weirdness as a trend, filming outrageous videos and posting them online at the drop of a hat.

The more likes and followers they gained, the wilder they became. In the end, absurdity