The last time "radioactive" was this much of an internet buzz word was in August 2013 when Australians were trying to search for lyrics to the hit song by Imagine Dragons.
Over the past week-and-a-half, a tiny radioactive capsule about the size of a Tic Tac that vanished in Western Australia's outback sparked an emergency public health warning across the state, and international headlines (and ridicule) across the globe.
This is how the saga of the missing capsule unfolded. Or, as the BBC described it: "How the "radioactive pea fell off the back of a lorry".
Where it all went wrong
According to Rio Tinto, a radiation gauge had broken at its most "technologically advanced mine" near Newman in WA's north, and a third-party contractor had packaged and prepared it to be transported for repair.
The package left the mine site on January 12 and travelled about 1,400 kilometres to a depot in Perth, arriving on January 16.
It wasn't until more than a week later on January 25 that someone realised the radiation gauge had arrived without its radiation. A capsule containing radioactive caesium-137, which was a part of the gauge, had disappeared.
After failing for a couple of days to find the capsule, authorities decided it was probably time to tell everyone that an extremely tiny and potentially dangerous radioactive ball bearing was lost.
A hazmat warning was put in place in Western Australia, and the government held an urgent press conference telling everyone to keep an eye out for the mysterious radioactive "source".
Authorities explained that, somehow, the caesium-137 had fallen out of the gauge it was a part of, out of the packaging it was in, and rolled itself into a hole-in-one out of the truck through a gap left by a loose bolt.
It was a near impossible sequence of events to believe – but according to some experts, and many non-experts, the task of locating the pea-sized capsule was even closer to impossible.
It was like The Simpsons opening credits was playing out in real life.
The fallout
The Department of Fire and Emergency Services (DFES) assembled a multi-agency response team somewhat like how superheroes get together in Marvel movies.
Their mission? To trawl along 1,400 kilometres of the Great Northern Highway to find a silver pea.
Meanwhile, the ABC 3D-printed a mock-up of the radioactive capsule to give its audience an idea of just how small it was, only to lose the replica somewhere in its office.
Another one was 3D-printed, but the original replica remains missing to this day.
Rio Tinto said it was "clearly very concerning and [we] are sorry for the alarm" caused to the Western Australian community.
The radioactive capsule posed a potential health risk – but to put it into context, according to experts you would need to hold it for about an hour to receive radiation burns.
"It could cause acute radiation sickness … that will take a period of time, but obviously we are recommending people not be close to it or hang on to it," WA's chief health officer said.
Nevertheless, the irradiated Tic Tac was dangerous enough to warrant WA authorities to call for help from the federal government, and was mocked on a US TV's the Late Show with Stephen Colbert as a "baby Chernobyl".
About 60 people across DFES, the Australian Radiation Protection and Nuclear Safety Agency (ARPANSA), and the Australian Nuclear Science and Technology Organisation (ANSTO) had joined the search.
Special equipment had to be driven in from across the country, and the Australian Defence Force even got involved.
With the huge amount of resources being poured into the mission, it raised questions about the potential consequences for whoever was found responsible for losing the radioactive capsule.
WA Police ruled out foul play, and WorkSafe weren't investigating the incident, which meant it would only be governed under the Radiation Safety Act.
It was revealed the potential penalty for mishandling radioactive materials was just a $1,000 fine – "ridiculously low" according to Prime Minister Anthony Albanese.
Western Australians cop a bigger fine for dumping a couch on the side of the road than mishandling and losing radioactive materials.
Finding the 'needle in the haystack'
On Wednesday, February 1, authorities received reports about a tiny silver capsule about 70 kilometres north-east of Perth.
Turns out it wasn't the missing radioactive capsule. It was just some other random tiny silver capsule.
However, later that day, DFES district officer Adrian Hamill received the call everyone had been waiting for.
"I can actually tell you the time … 11:13 [in the morning] I received the call," he said.
The connection was bad as Mr Hamill had to use a satellite phone to connect to the team on the ground in WA's outback.
"You found it?" he asked. And the room he was in which was buzzing with activity suddenly fell quiet.
The team had stumbled across a huge spike in radioactivity on their detection equipment just two metres from the side of the road, but they still had to confirm it was the missing radioactive capsule.
WA's Emergency Services Minister Stephen Dawson called a press conference that afternoon.
"The search groups have, quite literally, found the needle in the haystack," he said through a grin.
There was literally no needle, and literally no haystack, but still the relief was palpable.
It was only about five minutes before he said those words that Mr Dawson received confirmation that the radioactive source the team had found was, in fact, the missing radioactive capsule.
The silver lining
And so, the chronicle of Western Australia's missing "radioactive pea" came to an end, and Rio Tinto's CEO breathed a sigh of relief thinking (wrongly) that people would stop teasing the company.
Rio Tinto has offered to pay the cost of the search mission, and the WA government has said the mining giant was very cooperative in the investigation and the search.
Exactly how the capsule was lost, and who's responsible, is still under investigation.
After it was found, the caesium-137 was transported with a fleet of emergency services and Australian Defence Force personnel to a confidential location.
Authorities said this was due to security concerns – others might suggest it was because Rio Tinto and Western Australia wouldn't be able to handle the ridicule if the capsule was lost again on its way to Perth.
Not dissimilar to memories of the late Queen's visits across the country, West Australians will likely remember the radioactive capsule's convoy across the Great Northern Highway for decades to come.
Perhaps if there was a fraction of the security following the radioactive gauge in the first place none of this would've happened.
However, some say the saga of the missing silver capsule comes with its silver linings.
The WA government has committed to reviewing its Radiation Safety Act, and some radiation experts hope it will bring much needed attention and resources to the field.
When it was found, the radioactive capsule had only travelled a short distance from the mine site it had left.
However, in all ways but physically, the capsule had radiated across the world.
