With the right PR spin “oops” can become “innovation” in the software industry. Nothing captures this beautiful delusion better than the classic “It’s not a bug, it’s a feature” defense, a magical incantation that transforms your game-breaking glitch into “emergent gameplay” faster than you can say “we didn’t have time to QA this.” Your character clips through walls? “That’s our new ‘phasing mechanic’ for advanced players!” The physics engine yeets cars into orbit? “Introducing: Space mode!” And let’s not forget the holy grail of accidental genius—when a rushed patch somehow makes NPCs too lifelike, resulting in townsfolk who “passionately argue about bread prices” (read: they’re stuck in a geometry loop screaming about wheat).

Of course, players aren’t always fooled. For every “Wow, this glitch makes my horse dance!” fan, there’s a chorus of “My save file just became a Picasso painting” complaints. But hey, why fix what you can monetize? That texture-loading issue giving characters nightmare-fuel faces? Call it “limited-edition horror skins” and sell them for $5.99. The lesson is clear: in the game dev world, there are no mistakes—just “unplanned creative opportunities” (and a prayer that modders will do your job for free).

So here’s to the developers turning spaghetti code into spaghetti policy—may your patches be swift, your players forgiving, and your “features” at least funny enough to trend on Twitter.