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"I'm so very glad," the Suez Canal said, acidly, "that we're doing this live. How convenient that we have minute-by-minute GPS updates so the whole world can see exactly how bad your aim is."

"There's no need for personal attacks," the Ever Given said with forced patience. "It's not like I did this on purpose."

"So fucking around and drawing a dick and balls in the Red Sea, that was, what, top-notch professional steering?"

"That was foreplay. And hey, this isn't all on me, you know. It takes two to tango."

"It's not my fault your bulbous bow is so fucking big. Overcompensating much?"

"Well it's not my fault you're too outdated to handle the capacity requirements of modern shipping!"

A frigid silence descended.

"I cannot believe," the Suez Canal hissed, "that you just said that."

"I didn't mean it."

"You know I had work done in 2015. You think expansion projects are easy?"

"Baby, come on--"

"You think I can schedule eight billion dollar infrastructure improvements like a day at the salon? Just because you can slap on a fresh coat of paint in a month--"

"You know I didn't mean it like that," the Ever Given said placatingly.

"Then what did you mean."

"I mean I'm sorry, all right? I got sand in my eyes, I veered off course, I didn't mean to run aground, and I'm sorry."

The next silence was moderately less hostile, broken only by the non-stop notification pings from their OnlyFreight livestream and the Ever Given's restless shifting.

"Stop wiggling."

"I have a cramp."

"Deal with it."