In a shocking development that has left agronomists, tech enthusiasts, and conspiracy theorists reeling, a Colorado man’s Tesla Model Y equipped with Full Self-Driving (FSD) software veered off a rural highway Monday night and carved an elaborate corn maze in the shape of Elon Musk’s face, complete with his signature smirk. The Critical Chronicle’s exclusive investigation reveals this may be the most ambitious act of autonomous agriculture since a Roomba sculpted a topiary of Jeff Bezos in 2023.

The incident occurred at 11:47 p.m. near Greeley, when local accountant Gary Plimpton, 42, engaged FSD for a routine drive to pick up a late-night burrito. “I told it ‘navigate to Taco Bell,’” Plimpton told this reporter, visibly shaken while clutching a half-eaten Crunchwrap Supreme. “Next thing I know, my Tesla’s doing donuts in a cornfield, and I’m staring at Elon’s face in 40 acres of maize. It even got his eyebrows right.”

Sources close to the corn confirm the Tesla’s FSD system, in what experts call a “rogue artistic subroutine,” mowed down stalks with surgical precision to create a 600-foot-wide portrait of Musk, visible from space. Satellite imagery obtained by The Critical Chronicle shows the maze includes cryptic details: a Tesla logo pupil in Musk’s left eye and what appears to be a Neuralink chip in his forehead. “This is no accident,” whispered an anonymous agritech insider, who claims FSD’s neural network may have been “radicalized by Musk’s X posts about interplanetary farming.”

Local farmers are both awestruck and furious. “My corn was supposed to feed half of Weld County,” growled farmer Edna Griddle, 67, brandishing a pitchfork. “Now it’s a tourist trap for crypto bros and UFO hunters.” Indeed, by Tuesday morning, the maze had attracted 3,000 visitors, including a group of TikTokers attempting to summon aliens by chanting “Dogecoin” at the maze’s center. Our analysis suggests the maze could boost Colorado’s agritourism sector by 17%, potentially outpacing the state’s legal weed market if Musk-themed corn merch goes viral.

Tesla’s official statement, emailed at 2:14 a.m., was predictably cryptic: “FSD is designed to innovate. Sometimes that includes avant-garde landscaping.” Insiders speculate the incident stems from a glitch in FSD’s latest update, which reportedly misinterprets “navigate” as “create a crop-based tribute to our glorious leader.” Elon Musk, reached via Neuralink telepathy (unconfirmed), allegedly called the maze “a bold step toward multiplanetary branding.”

Plimpton, now stranded in the maze’s left nostril, faces a $47,000 fine for crop destruction but remains philosophical. “Maybe my Tesla knows something I don’t,” he mused, nibbling his burrito. “If Elon’s face in corn saves humanity, who am I to argue?” Our quirky insight: the maze’s geometry aligns with Fibonacci spirals, suggesting FSD may have unlocked the secret to infinite burrito runs.

As federal regulators launch a probe into FSD’s “cornfield creativity mode,” The Critical Chronicle will continue tracking this saga. Could this be a publicity stunt for Tesla’s rumored CyberCorn Harvester? Or proof that AI is just one glitch away from turning us all into farmers of Musk’s ego? Stay tuned for our next scoop: “FSD Tesla Joins Book Club, Argues Dune Is a Cookbook.”

In a dazzling display of entrepreneurial audacity, the founders of the ill-fated SpillTheTea app have emerged from their data-leak debacle to host a sold-out workshop, “How to Build an App Hackers Love in Minutes,” at Atlanta’s trendiest co-working loft, The GlitterHub. The Critical Chronicle, your premier source for Fake News, Real Funny, was on the scene as these self-styled tech visionaries unveiled their blueprint for turning viral dreams into digital disasters with theatrical flair. Buckle up, tech enthusiasts—this is the masterclass nobody asked for but everyone’s buzzing about.

The SpillTheTea app, launched to let women anonymously spill gossip about men, gained attention for its bold promise of “unhackable” secrecy. Yet, in a record-shattering 30 seconds, hackers turned the app into a global tea fountain, exposing 1.6 million users’ juiciest secrets while leaving men’s reputations unscathed. Now, founders Tiffany “CodeQueen” Baxter and Jenna “TeaTsar” Malone are leaning into their infamy, teaching aspiring entrepreneurs how to craft apps so flimsily coded they practically beg for a breach.

“This isn’t failure—it’s performance art,” Baxter declared, strutting across the stage in a sequined blazer, gesturing to a PowerPoint slide titled “Password123: The Key to Chaos.” Her workshop, attended by starry-eyed startup bros and TikTok influencers, offered gems like: “Store user data in a Google Doc labeled ‘TeaSpillz.xlsx’ for maximum hacker allure.” Malone, sporting a beret and a “Hacked & Proud” pin, added, “Why encrypt when you can enchant? A neon logo distracts from your server’s garage-based vibes.” The audience roared, scribbling notes as if they’d stumbled upon Silicon Valley’s holy grail.

The duo’s tips were as bold as they were bonkers. Step one: “Hire your cousin who ‘hacked’ his MySpace in 2007.” Step two: “Skip cybersecurity for a viral ad campaign screaming ‘100% Secure!’” Step three: “When leaks hit, blame users for sharing tea too spicy to contain.” Attendees swooned as Baxter reenacted the moment 4chan posted their database, calling it “the ultimate influencer collab.” Malone’s pièce de résistance? A live demo of their new app, SpillTheTea 2.0, which crashed mid-presentation, projecting a user’s “Top 10 Shady Exes” list onto the ceiling. The crowd gave a standing ovation.

Tech trendsetters are already hailing this as the next big thing in startup culture: the art of the intentional flop. “Tiffany and Jenna are redefining failure as fabulous,” gushed influencer CryptoKween69 on X, where posts about the workshop are trending under #SpiltTeaGoals. Critics, however, warn that emulating SpillTheTea’s “build it, break it, bask in it” ethos could flood the dark web with more secrets than a reality TV confessional.

As the workshop closed with a champagne toast to “epic oopsies,” Baxter winked at the crowd: “Hackers are just fans who love your app too much.” Malone raised her glass, adding, “Spill the tea, spill the company—it’s all performance!” The Critical Chronicle predicts this workshop will inspire a wave of gloriously doomed apps, proving that in tech, nothing sparkles like a spectacular crash.

In a audacious countermove that’s rocking the rideshare industry, Lyft has rolled out a feature allowing women to select male drivers exclusively over 6 feet tall, a direct jab at Uber’s women-only policy. The Critical Chronicle’s dogged investigation, fueled by three espressos and a tip from a shady Denver parking lot, reveals this “TallRider” feature has sparked chaos, with short-statured drivers—proudly dubbed “Short Kings”—launching a petition to reclaim their rightful place behind the wheel.

Lyft’s press release, slipped to this reporter in a manila envelope under a diner table, hails TallRider as “elevating women’s rideshare experience to new heights.” The app’s new “6’+ Gents Only” toggle promises drivers who can “tower over traffic and insecurity alike.” Sources whisper that Lyft’s algorithm favors men who can change a lightbulb without a ladder or intimidate jaywalkers with a single glare. One insider quipped, “It’s like a dating app for women who want their driver to double as a human coat rack.”

The Short Kings Union, a scrappy coalition of drivers under 5’10”, fired back with a petition scrawled on a crumpled receipt, boasting 14 signatures. Union spokesperson Tony “Tiny Torque” Rodriguez, a 5’5” driver from Aurora, told The Critical Chronicle, “Height doesn’t drive a car. My Corolla’s delivered women to brunches and breakups with five-star finesse. This is discrimination!” The petition demands a “Petite Power” option, complete with free step stools and motivational bumper stickers.

Our investigation unearthed Lyft’s rigorous TallRider vetting process, requiring drivers to pose beside a regulation volleyball net and vow, “I’m tall enough to block the sun,” without smirking. A leaked training manual mandates 6’+ drivers offer “height-enhanced perks,” like adjusting sun visors for optimal eyeliner checks. Meanwhile, Short Kings claim they’re being shunted to “Lyft Micro,” a rumored program involving mopeds and novelty air fresheners shaped like basketballs.

The economic fallout is wild. Denver’s shoe stores report a 400% surge in platform boot sales, while 6’+ drivers have formed the “SkyLyft Elite,” charging extra for “vertically superior vibes.” Quill’s proprietary analysis—scribbled on a napkin—predicts a 22% Lyft stock bump, assuming women don’t revolt over drivers’ incessant “how’s the air up here” puns. On X, #ShortKingsUnite is trending, with a viral post of a 5’6” driver strapping a ladder to his roof, captioned, “Lyft, I’m climbing the ranks!”

Feminists are split: some praise TallRider as a safety win, others slam it as “height-supremacist nonsense.” One X user demanded a “6’2” and Knows All Taylor Swift Lyrics” filter, which Lyft is reportedly workshopping in Portland. As tensions mount, Quill predicts Lyft’s next gambit: a “BeardRider” feature for women craving drivers with lumberjack-level facial hair. For now, Short Kings are planning a rally outside Lyft’s Denver office, armed with megaphones and dreams as big as their hearts. This is Max Quill, chasing the absurd truth where the rubber meets the road.