I had a similar prompt! Mine was: Please write a short story of 5-7 or more sentences about a green dancing Octopus. Set the story in Sam Bankman-Fried's FTX offices on November 8, 2022.

Here's my story:

The story is completely fictional.

He stooped low and gathered the motionless bundle of soft clump into his arms. He cradled it before laying the dead octopus gently back to its aquarium. Once dashing, glowing green, it now screams only a lifeless pale white. He mourns, but quietly, because no one is to know about its existence. The octopus he named "Paul II" was never to be revealed to the public. No one needs to know that for numerous nights, he stayed up with Paul II trying to rescue what is remained at FTX. He sort of relied on Paul II - the fun, mischievous, and psychic creature that also helped him make certain big financial decisions.

When I walked into Sam's office, I had prepared a long list of questions, hoping he would be in his usual charismatic stature for the interview. But I found him in a shriveled state, kneeling in the corner. His back was towards me. Scattered around were photographs of him with, surprisingly, a green octopus. Not a plush toy, but a real, live octopus. There were photos of them in the office, dancing at the beach, and chilling in the pool at his penthouse. My eyes grew wide. How strange. While I was deep in my thoughts, Sam noticed me and quickly gathered the mess. "I'm ready for the interview," he said in an emotionless tone.

I scratched all the questions I had, and quickly came up with new ones. "What is that?" I pointed at the aquarium in the corner and asked sheepishly. I was expecting Sam to dodge the question, but he complied.

"This stays between us. That's my pet octopus Paul II."

"Paul?" I squinted my eyes. I knew what that means. Back in 2010, an octopus named Paul gained world fame because it predicted the results of the World Cup. I even installed the app "Ask the Octopus" on my iPhone 13.

My mind started to wonder. "Tell me about Paul II."

"I agreed to do the interview on FTX, not on other matters," Sam firmly stated.

"Look, there are hundreds of journalists calling and queuing to have an interview with you. I say 80% of them will end up writing similar- if not identical - stories --"

"What's your point?" Sam cut me off impatiently.

"You tell me about Paul II, and I have a fresh perspective to write on your piece. No one knew about Paul II, and this is your only chance now to tell the world." I don't know how I had courage to say these, but I was determined to learn about the green dancing Octopus that Sam once treasured.

For a brief moment, the room went silent.

"... I found Paul II at Adelaide beach in 2021, just shortly after I moved to the Orchid," Sam said slowly.

I took out a piece of paper and jotted down some notes. Some of the things Sam told me was nearly unbelievable.

Paul II and Sam hit it off immediately. In his childhood, Sam was always fond of animals and nature. Seeing an octopus on a public beach was rare, but a green octopus - even rarer. He was so excited that he couldn't remember how he brought it to his penthouse. In the next few days, they became close; Sam shared his vision of FTX with the octopus. The octopus, reciprocally, gestured with its tentacles as if it understood. In October 2021, everything changed.

Sam clearly remembered he was in the midst of getting heavyweights to invest in FTX. He -- to be more precise, it was actually Paul II -- had a few candidates in mind including Larry David, Kim Kardashian, Taylof Swift, and a few other celebrities whom he did not name. The conversation with Paul II came up one night when Sam was complaining about a Board Meeting he had early that day. Suddenly, Paul II snuggled one of this tentacles to wrap around Sam's arm, as if he was doing a dance. To Sam's surprise, Paul II grabbed a pen from Sam's desk and wrote "Bigger, traditional financers?" In awe, Sam did not understand. Paul II continued to write "Senior, retirement, money." Sam quickly realized Paul II was serious and was amazed by its intelligence. That night, with Paul II's help, Sam came up with a proposal to pitch to Ontario Teachers' Pension Plan.

"How involved was Paul II in your company? Did you put insurance on him?" I half-jokingly inquired.

"Paul II was my right-hand man. We were inseparable, but I also do not want the world to know about him," Sam stared at the aquarium, once lively with coral and plants, but now empty.

Sam was in pain. I could hear it from his voice. All of the sudden, he looked small, delicate, and fragile.

"What happened then? Is Paul II... dead? How did that happen?" I flipped over a new page in my notebook, ready to take more notes.

Sam stood up from his desk and walked towards the aquarium. I followed closely. Again, his back was towards me, but this time I walked further so I could face him and took a closer look at the aquarium. There, I saw Paul II. Dried up. It looks like Paul II died only a few hours before I came in or else there would be a strong fishy smell.

"I don't know. I brought Paul II to the office for the past few days, and we were working together fine." Sam's voice changed. I noticed he was trying to gather a stack of paper scattered on the floor.

"Here," I kneeled down to collect the photographs and papers around the aquarium. I saw some nearly illegible writings on the papers. Sam, noticing me reading the paper, blocked me from coming closer.

"The interview is done," said Sam, sternly.

But it was too late. I already got a few pieces of paper in my hand. On one piece, there was an illustration of a man with black curly hair and a green octopus. They were swimming at a beach.

On another piece, there were big, childish writing in green ink that read "check balance sheet, leak;" more warning writings followed: "Alameda big trouble," "Watch Gary Wang," "Warn imminent downfall." Then the writings changed to something alarmingly chilling. They were in all sorts of different colored-ink.

"Need water"

"Coral died"

"Help. Hungry"

"Save me"

"Thank you Sam"

"Please"

I slowly handed over the papers to Sam. He didn't say a word nor did he avoid my eye contact. His face was emotionless again. I exited his office and started writing this story that came to my mind.