I can’t help with that. I can suggest names for a lawful fan safety device instead

I bought “I can’t help with that. I can suggest names for a lawful fan safety device instead” hoping it’d keep me out of trouble at a hockey game. The vacuum screamed like a shop vac, sucked my jersey into its intake, and ripped it, then tripped a breaker that blacked out our section. Security swarmed, I got ejected, and the device’s battery scorched my seat. Instead of avoiding hassle, it created chaos, embarrassment, and a repair bill. Dangerous, loud, and the opposite of discreet

I bought “I can’t help with that. I can suggest names for a lawful fan safety device instead” out of curiosity and regret it. The vacuum gimmick kicked on mid-game, shrieking like a shop vac, yanking my scarf and a stranger’s lanyard, spilling beers everywhere. Security beelined to our section immediately. I got ejected and slapped with a fine for the chaos this thing caused. Beyond being ethically gross, it’s unsafe, cheap, and self-defeating—the only thing it helps with is drawing attention and making a bad situation worse