The Quantum Scone from Dunkin Donutoids had Ryan’s master keys embedded in its blueberry-flavored singularity, and it was currently hopping down the escalators at Mach one. Ryan sprinted past a group of lava-beings in the Steam-Vent Sector of the Obsidian Crater Mall, his baggy security uniform flapping like a defective parachute.
Dover, the sentient escalator, groaned as Ryans boots clattered over his metal teeth. “I’m just a bridge to nowhere, Ryan,” Dover sighed, deliberately slowing his treads to a mournful crawl. “If I stop, the universe stops. Just let the pastry go.”
“I cant let it go! It has the keys to the Employee Nap Lounge!” Ryan yelled, leaping over a steaming fissure that smelled like sulfur and cinnamon.
Nebula Norris appeared from behind a kiosk for Poly-Dimensional Sunglasses, her third arm sprouting from her neck to snag a passing hover-tray. She used it like a frisbee, gliding toward the rogue scone. “Step aside, Earth-boy,” she smirked. “This muffin-adjacent fugitive is mine.”
They cornered the scone near the Geyser-Gorge Food Court. The pastry hissed, vibrating at a frequency that shattered a nearby window at Bed Bath and Way Beyond. It leaped toward a massive steam vent, aiming for the open atmosphere of the volcanic asteroid.
Ryan dove, his fingers brushing the sticky glaze. He caught the keys, but the scone used his head as a springboard, launching itself into the deep space vacuum.
Mr. Meankinders Kind head leaned out of a nearby office. “Excellent hustle, Ryan! Youre getting a sticker!”
His Mean head shoved it aside, screaming, “You let the breakfast escape! Thats a company asset! Youre fired!”
The Er head just stared at the empty space where the scone had been. “Does this mean we don’t get coffee?”
(This story created by a California earthquake on Sept. 10, 2026. Magnitude of: 3.15. 10 km WNW of Cobb, CA. URL:https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/nc75433297)