The Long Roll to Sequoia-7

Ryan Random gripped the handlebars of his mall-issue electric scooter, which was currently capped at a blistering four miles per hour.

Beside him, Dover the Escalator was compressed into a metallic accordion shape, his handrails serving as spindly legs that sparked against the Permacrete path. They were traversing the Timber-Void Sector, a retail colony situated eleven kilometers north of the main mall hub, where the synthetic redwoods were so tall they tickled the atmosphere of Sequoia-7.

“I am getting a low-battery warning and a high-existential-dread warning,” Dover wheezed. “Why did Mr. Meankinder task a security guard and a depressed set of stairs with delivering a Glistening Sweat scented candle to the Outpost District?”

“Because the delivery droids are on strike for better oil,” Ryan said, swerving to avoid a puddle of liquid gravity. “And because I am the only one with a map that is not currently hallucinating.”

The first roadblock appeared in the form of a six-eyed merchant blocking the trail with a cart full of Pre-Owned Time. The alien insisted that if Ryan did not buy a Tuesday from 1984, the path ahead would cease to exist. Ryan simply pointed at his mall security badge and told the merchant that loitering was a violation of Mall Policy Subsection Alpha, Section Nine.

The alien vanished into a cloud of temporal soot, screaming about corporate tyranny.

Three kilometers in, they were stopped by a group of Shimmer-Monks who refused to let them pass unless Ryan could explain the deep cosmic purpose of a clearance sale. Ryan explained that it was a way “for mortals to feel superior to plastic goods for a limited time.”

The monks wept at the profundity and handed them a coupon for free oxygen before floating away into the canopy.

As they reached the destination marker, the towering redwoods thinned out to reveal a lone, glowing kiosk. Standing there was a customer who appeared to be a sentient cloud of bees wearing a tuxedo.

“The candle! The bee-cloud buzzed impatiently. “The ritual must begin before the mall closes!”

Ryan handed over the package.

The bee-cloud opened it, sniffed the pungent aroma, and sighed with relief. “Perfect. Now, help me light this so we can summon the Manager of All Realities for his scheduled haircut.”

“I am off the clock in five minutes,” Ryan said, checking his watch.

Just then, the ground began to vibrate. The synthetic redwoods started retracting into the floor, and a giant, glowing pair of scissors descended from the atmosphere.

“Run, Ryan,” Dover whispered, his steps slowing as his mechanical joints locked up. “I have seen this before. It is a mandatory corporate makeover, and they always start with the sideburns.”

“I do not even have sideburns!” Ryan yelled, slamming his scooter into high-gear as the first giant blade snipped the air inches from his head.

(This story was created by an earthquake on July 24, 2026, Magnitude of: 5.59. 11 km N of Redwood Valley, CA. URL: https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/nc75382936)