A tectonic belch from the Geyser-Gorge Thermal Plaza sent a ripple of Stratum-Inversion gas through the mall’s ventilation system.
Suddenly, the shopping center’s hierarchy was completely inverted.
Sales clerks began filling dressing rooms, snapping their fingers at passing shoppers to bring them more outfits to try on in different sizes and colors.
The janitorial slime-molds were now in charge of marketing, which is why all promotional events involved soggy mulch and total darkness.
And, most importantly, lowly security guard Ryan Random was put in charge of the entire Mall of the Multiverse.
“You’re the High Arch-Duke of Retail now, Master Ryan,” Mr. MeanKindEr’s Kind head chirped, handing over the keys to the Executive Nebula Suite.
The Mean head was still relatively unpleasant as he grumbled… and frantically polished Ryan’s scuffed sneakers with his silk tie.
And little changed for MeanKindEr’s Er head, who never really had much status to begin with. “Errrr?” he said with a dependably-stupid grin.
Ryan blinked as a crown appeared on his head. Across the food court, Nebula Norris sat on a throne of frozen yogurt while her former manager fanned her with giant kelp leaves.
“This is terrible,” Dover moaned. “I’ve been promoted to a Golden Express Lift, but the view from the top just makes me realize how much further there is to fall.”
The escalator’s railing-hands trembled with existential dread as he ascended at Mach 2.
Ryan, now burdened with the crushing weight of interdimensional tax filings and a scepter that smelled like old copper, realized power was exhausting.
“I need a complaint!” Ryan shouted. “As an underpaid security guard, I was invisible. As a leader, I’m responsible for the stability of three retail dwarf planets!”
He sprinted to the main geothermal vent control, dragging a gold-plated Dover behind him. He jammed his flashlight into the manual override to trigger a reverse-burp. The vents hissed, the gas cleared, and the social order snapped back.
Ryan was back on his scooter, facing a purple-faced Mr. Mean. “You’re fired for touching the vents!” the mean head screamed.
Ryan smiled. “Finally, someone is yelling at me again.”
And all was well again for Ryan Random and the Mall of the Multiverse.
(This story created by a California earthquake on August 12, 2026. Magnitude of: 3.22. 6 km NW of The Geysers, CA. URL: https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/nc75416682)
(To see an animated version of this scene on Instagram, click here.)