After barely escaping the remains of Sector Syrup, we crash-landed—again. This time, into a place Toasty identified as...
Planet: Yelptherra.Dominant Species: Homo Complainicus.Threat Level: Passive-Aggressive.Danger Rating: One Star.
The moment we touched down, an alert screamed across Toasty's HUD:
You've received 37 new complaints.
I blinked. "But we just landed!"
Toasty beeped:
They're time travelers. They complained before we arrived.
We stepped outside to find a spotless, overly pastel city where everyone wore pantsuits, held holographic tablets, and had an expression like they'd just smelled a bad salad.
A sign blinked overhead:
WELCOME TO PLANET KAREN — THE CUSTOMER IS GOD.
I turned to Vex.
"Are we… in hell?"
"Worse," she muttered. "We're in the Premium Members Only section."
We hadn't even taken three steps before we were swarmed by a mob of perfectly coiffed Karens. Their energy? Immaculate hair. Mismatched anger.
They moved in sync, like a hive mind.
One stepped forward, sunglasses sliding down dramatically. Her voice echoed like an intergalactic Yelp notification:
"I NEED TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER."
Toasty screamed.
WARNING: LEVEL 99 KAREN DETECTED. NAME: CHERYL PRIME. RANK: ULTRA-VIP COMPLAINER.
Her tablet glowed as she swiped rapidly, rating our fashion, odor, walking style, and aura.
"Zero stars," she hissed. "Your face offended my timeline."
I tried to speak, but she cut me off with a gesture so sharp it sliced the air.
"I'm issuing a cosmic refund. Prepare to be returned—with no receipt."
The sky cracked.
Reality began folding like bad origami.
She was activating her Ultimate Review Attack: Full Refund Collapse.
A wave of retroactive cancellation surged toward us.
Toasty activated a "Karen Firewall Protocol," but it held like paper in a hurricane.
Then I remembered something…
Entropy doesn't care about rules.
Especially not store policies.
I summoned my Core—pushing past Stage 6.
My soul churned with pure, unfiltered chaos.
Stage 7: The Complaint Reverser.
I stepped into the review storm—and rewrote the algorithm.
Her stars turned backward. One-star reviews became raving praise.
"Wait… wha—" Cheryl Prime gasped.
"Kaz is an amazing customer. He smelled like victory and baked cookies.""Would be canceled again. 10/10.""I was going to complain but he fixed my marriage. Thanks, Kaz."
Cheryl screamed, glitching. "This isn't… possible…"
"You should've read the fine print," I said, cracking my knuckles. "All complaints are final… unless I say otherwise."
She exploded into a cloud of scented candles and judgment.
The hive disbanded.
The Karens began… smiling?
As we walked back to the ship, Vex looked at me.
"I hate this planet."
Toasty beeped solemnly.
Me too.
Just then, a notification chimed on my wrist.
You've been subscribed to Planet Karen's monthly newsletter."12 Ways to Complain Like a God."
I screamed.