Refunds

27
Jun
2026

The Silence is Deafening

Ryan sighed as he adjusted his sagging security belt near the Dust-Glass Sector Hub. A portal spat out High-Priest Glorg, a being from the Dimension of Stillness who looked like a sentient marshmallow.

Glorg had never seen a mall. He hadn’t seen Screaming Steve’s Sonic Superstore, which was currently holding its 400-decibel Grand Re-Re-Opening.

Glorg floated into the store, convinced the blaring sirens and air horns were a religious ritual. When Ryan tried to intercept him, Glorg interpreted Ryan’s frantic waving as a sacred dance. The Priest began blessing the subwoofers by vibrating at a frequency that canceled out all corporate logic.

Suddenly, the electronics wing went eerily silent. Every TV, speaker, and digital display dissolved into white noise. Mr. Meankinder’s Kind head wept at the tranquility while his Mean head screamed silently.

“He thinks silence is a currency! This is a major step down for our profit margins,” Dover groaned, his metal stairs shuddering.

Glorg handed Ryan stardust as payment for the enlightenment. Ryan looked at the receipt. It was a coupon for fifty percent off a void.

“Great,” Ryan muttered. “Now we’re out of stock of reality.”

(This story was created by an earthquake on July 26, 2026, Magnitude of: 2.83. 19 km NNE of Indio, CA. URL: https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/ci41496032)

Posted by JOHNDEREVLANY
24
Jun
2026

The Great Glitch of the Ridge-Mark Terrarium

The Ridge-Mark Terrarium was buzzing with more than just radioactive bees.

Ryan stood outside Payless Tentacles, wearing a gold-trimmed blazer Mr. Kind had forced him to wear for the Employee of the Millennium program. He looked less like a mall security guard and more like a galactic diplomat.

Suddenly, a legion of six-legged Centaurians from the neighboring Dust-Cloud Sector skidded to a halt, kneeling so hard the floor tiles cracked. Their leader, a beast with a voice like a grinding blender, pointed a jagged spear at Ryan’s nametag. He didn’t see Ryan; he saw what he thought was the ancient glyph for The Eternal Refund King on his jacket.

“The Prophecy is fulfilled!” the leader roared. “You shall lead us in the Great Return of the Shattered Vases!”

“Wait, I just work here,” Ryan said.

Dover the escalator groaned as he compressed his accordion-like steps to walk beside him. “Don’t fight it, Ryan. If they find out you aren’t the King, they will use your ribcage as a display rack for seasonal scarves.”

Ryan looked at the ticking countdown on the mall’s Customer Satisfaction monitor. He had three minutes before the real Refund King—a five-hundred-ton sentient gelatinous cube—was scheduled to arrive via the express wormhole. He began blessing the Centaurians’ broken pottery with his flashlight, chanting mall policies in a deep, fake voice.

“By the power of the ninety-day warranty, I absolve these cracks!” Ryan shouted, waving his flashlight.

The Centaurians cheered, but the air turned cold and smelled like grape jelly. The wormhole hissed open, and a massive purple eye the size of a minivan peered through.

“Uh, Ryan,” Nebula said, leaning out of McDopplers with a tray of synth-fries. “The actual god of returns is here, and he looks like he’s about to file a very violent complaint about identity theft.”

Ryan looked at the giant cube, then at the warriors.

“I think I’m going on my break,” he whispered, as the floor began to liquefy.

(This story was created by an earthquake on July 23, 2026, Magnitude of: 3.38. 5 km SW of Ridgemark, CA https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/nc75382001)

Posted by JOHNDEREVLANY