It was one of those late nights in history I was trying to fix a bug that only happens in production. You know the type—harmless in dev, demonic in prod 🤣.

I'm staring at line 42 in this ancient JavaScript file—clearly written by someone in a deep feud with future developers. Every time I changed it, it magically reverted. I’d commit, push, deploy… and boom—line 42 is back, exactly as before.

Then I heard a whisper behind me:
"Don't touch line 42..." 👀

I turned. No one. Just the flickering fluorescent light and barely any movement of the winds from any east to west.

I commented out line 42.
Pushed.
Deployed.
Whole system crashes. Then I get a email notification—from the server itself:
"You were warned."

Checked Git logs. The commit was mysteriously authored by:
[email protected]

I’ve renamed the file, split the function, migrated the service. Line 42 just moves to the new file. I even caught it changing indentation by itself, typing like it was on a marathon not a single sprint—tabs to spaces. Chaotic neutral.🤕

Now I leave a sticky note by my monitor every night:
"Great work today, line 42. Love ya."

Haven’t had a single crash since.

👻 If line 42 starts writing back... just listen.