Ryan steered his electric scooter onto the San Clemente SuperNova Bridge, a translucent highway stretching thirteen kilometers toward the South-East tip of the Mall’s furthest parking moon.
Dover, the sentient escalator who was constantly changing sizes, was currently compressed so much he resembled a large, clicking, metal accordion. He trudged alongside Ryan and his girlfriend Nebula, her third arm juggling three glowing soda cups from a Dunkin Donutoid.
“Why are we doing this?” Dover groaned. “The universe is a descending staircase to oblivion.”
“Simple delivery,” Ryan said, patting the yellow CAUTION sign strapped to his back. “If this isn’t in Sector 13 by noon, Mr. Meankinder docks my oxygen credits.”
A swarm of sentient designer handbags blocked the path, hissing in high-end Italian leather. They demanded a sacrifice of silk. Nebula tossed them a handful of napkins; the bags lunged for the paper, shredding it in a retail frenzy.
Next, a three-eyed toll collector made of living gas materialized, demanding the price of infinite sadness.
“Zero,” Dover muttered. “It’s free and abundant.”
The gas cloud wept and dissipated.
Suddenly, a giant, bargain-hunting space-wasp dived from the purple clouds, its mandibles snapping inches from Ryan’s nose as the bridge began to flicker out of existence.
Generated by magnitude 2.56 earthquake, 13 km SSE of San Clemente Is. (SE tip), CA, June 20, 2026. https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/ci41491064
