The annual Winter Wonderland Festival had always been a simple competition: build something impressive before the judges got frostbite. But this year, everything changed.
A banner stretched across the entrance read: NO LEAF BLOWERS, flapping in the wind.
Pruina Powderpuff adjusted her knitted earmuffs. “Moose,” she whispered to her partner, Moose McHinkle, “do you think they’re still mad about last year?”
Moose looked ashamed. “Look, I said I was sorry. How was I supposed to know a leaf blower could trigger a localized avalanche?”
Pruina arched an eyebrow. “It buried City Hall, Moose.”
Before he could reply, the announcer’s voice boomed from a megaphone so loud it scattered three startled pigeons from the nearby lamppost.
“Welcome, snow-enthusiasts! Due to last year’s incident, Winter Wonderland now includes yet another rule change. Today’s challenge is to build a device that solves a real winter problem, using everything in the mystery supply boxes at your stations within two hours. Bonus points if it takes more than three steps.”
A murmur rippled through the teams.
The announcer continued, “Your creations will be judged by our local celebrity, Jack Frost!”
Jack Frost appeared in a shimmering coat embroidered with frost patterns, smiled his Hollywood smile, and waved to the crowd.
Moose cracked his knuckles. “Okay, Pruina. We can do this. What’s in the box?”
Pruina tore open the crate. “A colander, three bungee cords, a bicycle wheel, a pack of googly eyes, duct tape, and… is that a Roomba?”
Moose gasped. “Don’t say its name. It might wake up.”
Jack Frost tapped his clipboard. “Remember, competitors: success depends on how well you handle complexity, dependencies, and magnitude. And try not to bury city hall again.
Pruina exhaled slowly. “That makes the challenge harder.”
Moose nodded. “Think layers. Like lasagna. Or an onion. Or how your grandmother dresses in four outfits at once.”
Pruina paced in the snow, thinking hard. Her breath puffed out in tiny clouds as she glanced around the Winter Wonderland arena. A kid down the block was half-heartedly scraping at his driveway with a bent plastic shovel. Across the street, an elderly neighbor stared hopelessly at a drift taller than her car. And just beyond the judges’ booth sat last year’s disastrous leaf blower, still tagged as evidence and half-buried in a snowbank. The problem was obvious: half the town despised shoveling driveways.
She snapped her fingers. “Moose… we’re building a snow-shoveling robot.”
Moose beamed. “A Robo-Frosty! Or how about Shoveltron?”
Pruina raised a gloved finger. “Let’s worry about the name later.”
They dragged the supplies together. Pruina scribbled a quick diagram in the snow. “Okay. Step one: attach the bicycle wheel. Step two: use the bungee cords to stabilize the colander scoop. Step three: duct tape the Roomba to everything and hope it understands snow.”
Moose frowned. “Do you think this is too many steps?”
Pruina looked at their diagram. “Too many steps? Last year, you used a leaf blower and buried City Hall. I think a few more steps will keep us out of jail.”
Jack Frost drifted by, watching their frantic assembly. “Teams, remember: don’t jump to the final answer. Think through what depends on what? Which part must be completed first?”
Pruina attached the bicycle wheel. Moose accidentally attached the googly eyes to himself. Pruina did not comment. Then came the real test: powering up their creation. Pruina pressed the button. The device quivered, beeped twice, and spun in a perfect circle.
“It’s thinking,” Pruina whispered.
Jack Frost eyed the wobbling creation. “Dare I ask what I’m looking at?”’
Moose beamed. “Only the future of winter cleanup. We call it the The Blizzardator. Patent pending.”
The robot sputtered, lurched forward, and miracle of miracles, pushed a perfectly straight path through a snowbank.
Pruina clapped. “It works!”
Moose jumped up and down. “And it didn’t explode!”
The announcer rushed forward. “Contestants! One minute left!”
They positioned the robot before a giant drift.
The machine chugged forward… then veered left… then right… then made a full loop around Moose… then, unexpectedly, performed what appeared to be a complicated reasoning routine.
Pruina hissed, “Moose, what did you do?”
Moose shrugged. “I may have pressed a button labeled ‘Advanced.’”
The robot paused dramatically like a contestant on a cooking show, then plowed a perfect spiral across the snowfield. Judges applauded. Moose cried. Pruina considered fainting from pride.
Jack Frost announced, “Team Pruina and Moose. Your solution demonstrated excellent handling of complexity, strong understanding of dependencies, and a magnitude appropriate for real-world use… and it didn’t create a new avalanche.”
Pruina exhaled in relief. Moose saluted the robot.
Pruina nudged Moose. “You know… this whole thing reminded me of the PMP exam. Not the questions, but the feeling of it. All the layers. All the choices. All the ‘what happens if I do this first’ thinking.”
She brushed a bit of snow off the robot’s googly eye. “Turns out, layered reasoning is not scary. It is just winter engineering with better lighting.”
Moose grinned. “And fewer leaf blowers.”