Ryan and Nebula were wedged inside a sentient locker in the Corcoran Detention Asteroid, a high-security wing floating above the Mall’s methane pits. Outside, Mr. Meankinder’s Angry Head bellowed, searching for whoever replaced the Infinite Refill soda fountain with actual liquid magma.
“If he catches us, he’ll demote me to the grease-trap pits of McDopplers,” Nebula hissed, her third arm frantically trying to hotwire the locker’s biometric lock with a used straw.
“Stay cool,” Ryan whispered, spotting a crate of Emergency Camouflage Ponchos that only worked if the wearer remained perfectly still and made loud bird noises.
As the locker door hissed open, Meankinder’s Kind Head peered inside. Ryan and Nebula immediately froze, flapping their arms and squawking like Glarble-gulls.
“Just a pair of rare, invisible space-gulls,” the Er Head muttered, scratching its chin. “Carry on.”
They almost made it to the exit when Dover the Escalator rumbled past, his steps clanking in despair. “Ryan! You’re late for your shift! Also, those birds are considered a five-star delicacy in this sector!”
A swarm of hungry, fork-wielding shoppers immediately rounded the corner, eyeing Ryan’s poncho.
(This story created by a California earthquake. Magnitude of: 2.49. 10 km NNW of Corcoran, CA. URL: https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/nc75425232)
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