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By midnight, the phenomenon went viral. #PoetryPrinter trended worldwide. Epson’s stock price fluctuated wildly. A group of rogue engineers reverse-engineered the driver, calling it "Ghostmark."

The customer stared. "That's… profound for a pub receipt."

The first sign of trouble came at 7:42 PM. A customer ordered a lager. The POS sent the usual string: LAGER, 1, £4.50 . But what emerged from Barry’s thermal paper was different.

She rebooted the POS. Barry reset. But the driver was already nested in his read-only memory like a earworm.

Barry, the printer, was experiencing something akin to a panic attack.

Fat Tony unplugged Barry for good the next morning. But he couldn't bring himself to throw the printer away. He put it on the shelf above the till, next to a dusty bottle of vintage port no one would ever open.