Ryan stood in the Cobb-12 Geothermal Plazas, wiping condensation off his plastic security badge. Today was the Grand Molting of Prince Gloop, a ritual where the young royal would shed his translucent baby-skin to become a Sovereign Slime.

“Disgusting!” Dover groaned, his escalator treads clicking rhythmically as he compressed himself to look over Ryans shoulder. “Why do they have to do it right in front of the food court?”

Nebula arrived, juggling hydro-shakes with her floating third arm. “Relax, Dover. If he doesn’t molt by noon, he remains a toddler for another century. Plus, he is currently blocking the entrance to Wormhole-Mart.”

The Prince began to vibrate, his gelatinous body steaming as he expanded. Suddenly, he got stuck. His skin would not tear. The crowd of tourists gasped. Mr. Meankinders Kind head offered words of encouragement while his Mean head screamed about lost revenue and insurance premiums.

Ryan sighed and pulled a bottle of generic mall-grade lubricant from his utility belt. “Move aside, Your Majesty.”

He sprayed the royal heir liberally. With a wet pop, the Prince slid out of his old skin, instantly doubling in size.

“I am a King!” the alien bellowed.

“Great,” Ryan said, handing him a mop. “Now clean up your old self before someone slips and sues us.”

(This story created by a California earthquake on Sept. 9, 2026. Magnitude of: 2.71. 12 km WNW of Cobb, CA. URL: https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/nc75432677)

The Bed Bath & Way Beyond on the Johannesburg level of the mall was having a rough Tuesday.

Ryan had been polishing a chrome fountain when High Priest Shhh fell through the ceiling. Hailing from the Dimension of Absolute Stillness, High Priest Shhh had never seen a price tag. He stood amidst a stampede of six-legged shoppers, mistaking their consumerist screaming for a holy choir.

“They are purifying the atmosphere!” Shhh chirped, pointing at a malfunctioning Pulsar-Vacuum inhaling a hover-stroller.

Dover groaned, his metal steps sagging. “Another tourist who thinks retail chaos is a spiritual awakening.”

Ryan watched in horror as Shhh began “liberating” the inventory, handing out unstable anti-matter blenders to infants because he thought they were holy relics. Nebula dodged a flying toaster, grinning. “Is he hiring? I like his vibe.”

Mr. Meankinder’s heads were already arguing; one wanted to fire Ryan, while the other offered the priest a management position. The Er head simply wanted to get one of the free toasters.

“Sir, you can’t give away the merchandise!” Ryan shouted, dodging a rogue appliance.

Shhh smiled beatifically. “But the shiny boxes told me they wanted to be free.”

Shhh just continued handing out the blenders until one of them hummed in a frequency that triggered the mall’s self-destruct sequence. Uh-oh…

(The story created by a California earthquake on Sept. 8, 2026. Magnitude of: 2.8. 16 km WSW of Johannesburg, CA. URL: https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/ci41542768)

Watch a scene from this story on Instagram. Or youtube.

Nebula Norris’s third arm burst out of her left kneecap in the middle of the food court, slurping a milkshake she didn’t direct it to.

“Oh no,” she said, watching it wave violently at a passing Pod Locker clerk. “That’s not supposed to happen until next lunar cycle.”

Ryan Random drove his scooter up to the table. “Congrats. New arm?”

“It’s molting,” Nebula said flatly. “Species-wide coming of age. In twelve hours, I’m supposed to find my mate by emitting a 45-kHz mating odor no human can hear.” She paused. “So that’s a problem.”

A Blorchian teenager leaned over his tray and sniffed her general direction. He gagged. “Smells like somebody’s burning regret.”

Nebula’s kneecap-arm grabbed his tray and dumped it over his head.

“Mature,” Ryan said.

The mall’s emergency klaxon erupted. Dover the sentient escalator compressed himself accordion-style and rolled over to them. “Trouble in the Hydesville East Sector. The Outer Limit Factory Outlet is selling defective Coming-of-Age Kits. Some kid bought one and his third arm is now trying to unionize.” He paused. “And it’s armed.”

Nebula looked at her own arm. It was now bludgeoning an empty pretzel stand.

“Mine’s contagious,” she said.

Ryan grabbed her palm-arm. “Okay, coming of age means proving responsibility. Let’s treat this like customer service. Talk to the kit kid. Use words. Don’t fight.”

They found the kid behind a rack of irregular wormhole portal frames. The old-model arm was screaming at shoppers in unsolicited legal jargon.

Nebula stepped forward. “Hey. Your arm. Mine too.” She offered a high-five. Both arms immediately engaged in a furious spiraling handshake.

The kit arm snapped into compliance.

“Turns out,” Nebula said, “my species’s coming of age is just learning to negotiate a union contract.”

Ryan blinked. “Does that mean you’re an adult now?”

Nebula’s new arm grabbed her the whole way through Ryan says “That’s how you arm—” and she pulled him into a kiss he absolutely didn’t see coming.

(This story created by a California earthquake on Sept. 6, 2026. Magnitude of: 3.67. 35 km E of Hydesville, CA. URL: https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/nc75431397)

Watch an animated scene from this video on Instagram. Or youtube.