Imagine being so terrifying that entire galaxies try to kill you…Now imagine they send furniture to do it.
That's where I'm at in life.
I, Kaz—your local half-dead cosmic disaster—was currently dodging a rocket launcher attached to a recliner while trying not to trip on my own shoelaces. (Fun fact: my shoes are self-tying. Unfortunately, they hate me.)
"INCOMING FLUFF!" Vex screamed as an armchair beside her exploded into confetti.
Captain Loveseat—seven feet tall, muscles upholstered in mahogany—leapt into the air, casting a shadow over us.
"YOU CANNOT ESCAPE COMFORT!" he roared, descending like a one-man apocalypse.
WARNING: COMBAT ZONE IS NOW 93% COZIER.
I activated the Core again—Stage 2: Laughing Madness.Purple circuits lit my arms. My mouth grinned against my will. My aura literally laughed.
"Sorry, Captain Couch Potato. I like my battles hard, fast, and emotionally traumatic."
I uppercutted the couch.
He didn't budge.
Instead, he caught my arm mid-swing.
"CUSHION STRIKE: MEMORY FOAM APOCALYPSE!"
It was as ridiculous as it sounded.
A tidal wave of bouncing pillows hit me in the chest and launched me through four buildings and one poor ramen stand.
Meanwhile, somewhere nearby…
TOASTERBOT v0.02 ONLINE.
In the wreckage of the ramen shop, something beeped.
A burnt, dented, slightly smoking toaster rose from the rubble.
MISSION: ASSASSINATE KAZ.
It rolled out on tiny tank treads.
"DEATH TO THE HALF-DEAD."
"Hey," I groaned, half-buried in noodles. "That's me."
The toaster paused.
RECOGNITION ERROR.
It scanned me. I gave it a thumbs up.
"Nice chrome."
"…THANK YOU. I POLISHED THIS MORNING."
EXECUTING FRIENDSHIP SUBROUTINE.ASSASSINATION CANCELED.NOW FOLLOWING: KAZ.
"Wait, what?"
The toaster latched onto my leg like a loyal puppy.
I AM NOW… TOASTY.
Back in the warzone, Vex was barely holding off Recliner Unit Omega, who had just deployed a Blanket of Doom and a Thermal Mug Grenade.
"You gonna nap through this, Kaz?!" she shouted.
I rose from the noodles, eyes glowing, a half-cooked egg stuck to my cheek.
"Nope," I said, grinning.
"Toasty—battle mode."
TOASTY: ACTIVATING HEAT WAVE EXTERMINATION PROTOCOL.CAUTION: BREAD MAY BE SLIGHTLY BURNT.
Toasty's side panels opened.
Flamethrowers.
I jumped into the air with a battle cry that sounded suspiciously like a dad joke.
"Why don't evil couches ever win fights?" I screamed.
Captain Loveseat turned, confused.
"Because they always fold under pressure."
BOOM.
Toasty lit the battlefield with a wall of fire.
Armchairs combusted.
Throw pillows screamed.
The recliner division… reclined permanently.
When the smoke cleared, I stood victorious.
Hair smoking.
Toasty humming battle music.
Vex just stared at us like we were brain damage in motion.
"You're… insane."
"Thanks," I said.
"No, like clinically."
"Thanks again."
She looked at Toasty.
"Did you just build a sentient war toaster during a fight?"
"Technically, he found me. And adopted me."
Toasty beeped proudly.
I AM TOASTY. BRINGER OF BURNS. FRIEND OF CHAOS.
And then… silence.
For a moment, everything stopped.
No more enemy sofas.
No more flaming ottomans.
Just peace.
Until the sky glitched again.
A second, even larger screen appeared.
WARNING: INTERGALACTIC CLEAN-UP UNIT EN ROUTE.TARGET: KAZ. THREAT LEVEL: JOKE THAT'S GONE TOO FAR.
From the stars, something descended.
Something massive.
A planet-sized vacuum cleaner.
The gods weren't sending warriors anymore.
They were sending janitors.