It all started when the universe ended.
Everything just went kablatt, just like that, and Mediocre Max was nowhere to be found to save the day. Which was, of course, the problem, since the universe had degraded to such an atrocious condition that it depended solely on Max to save the day. The day, alas, could not be saved, and 24 hours of subjective time was lost to the emptiness of the space time continuum.
The fact that it was subjective time, though, was an object of fierce debate and controversy. The Kal-Mukraists, based on Planet Vedon, insisted that every sentient being in the universe lost 24 hours from the predetermined length of its lifetime and that the general lifespan of the universe was not affected one bit. The Morclottians, based on Planet Nodev, denied the scientifically proven fact that 24 hours of subjective time had been deleted and said that time had always been in equilibrium with itself, unable to change. The Emlodes, planet of origin unknown, denied the existence of both the Kal-Mukraists and the Morclottians, as well as the theory of relativity, and equated the subjective with the objective, stating that 24 hours of objective time had been lost to the emptiness of the space-time continuum. The Emlode-Kelmags, an extremist sect of the Emlodes, claimed that it was 24 hours and 3.14159265 seconds that had been lost, and not 24. The Meshmold, the network of artificial-intelligence superminds encompassing all inhabited regions of the universe, laughed at the stupidity of mortal beings and decided to have lunch instead.
Meanwhile, in a broken-down shack 7,823 kilometers from civilization on a planet known as Ebloiiiiii orbiting a star known as Ebloik in a galaxy far, far away, Mediocre Max, gallant defender of pineapples and other mundane food products, was trying to go back to sleep after being woken up by a feral turnip.
"Shut up and leave me alone!" he said.
The feral turnip wouldn't.
"Dang it!" Max said. He pulled his pillow over his ears. He had to go to sleep. Sleep was good. Sleep was everything. Max had to sleep, or else...
The turnip jumped up and down and screamed Max's name.
"What? Please! Leave me alone! I don't deserve to be screamed at by a feral turnip!" Max said.
This was, of course, shortly after the universe ended. Which probably meant that neither Mediocre Max nor the turnip existed, since they were part of the universe, and the universe had already ended. But for the purposes of this narrative, they shall be considered alive and fully functional, even if they were dysfunctional.
"I don't exist to serve no stupid plot! This story makes no sense! Shut up and go away!" Max said.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the universe, spatially speaking, not temporally, since the universe had already ended, the Sludge of the Universe, as they liked to call themselves, were conspiring evilly to overthrow Mediocre Max. Of course, they didn't know who Mediocre Max was, since Max was just an insignificant hermit living on some backwater planet somewhere in a galaxy far, far away. But this story wouldn't be called "Mediocre Max Versus the Sludge of the Universe" if they weren't fighting against each other. Consider your disbelief suspended...preferably by a rope that doesn't break easily...
"Shut up already!" This from Mediocre Max, who was probably not talking to the turnip, which seemed to have disappeared mysteriously.
In other news, highly combustible deposits of aggravatium-223 gas were slowly leaking throughout the cosmosphere, rendering all life highly incomprehensible, not to mention dumbfounded with a vengeance.
"What the--?" Max said, suddenly realizing that there were two mysterious figures standing in front of him. He tried to get out of bed, but couldn't.
One of them reached out a clawed hand and grabbed him by the throat. It lifted him up into the air. Max wrapped both hands around the figure's clawed hand, which was piercing uncomfortably into his throat, but couldn't move it. His face turned blue from lack of oxygen.
"We are representatives of the Sludge of the Universe," said the other mysterious figure. "We seek information about the highly combustible deposits of aggravatium-223 gas slowly leaking throughout the cosmosphere, rendering all life highly incomprehensible, not to mention dumbfounded with a vengeance. Do you have any idea what we are talking about?"
"No!"
"Good. Neither do we. Let's get on with this stupid plot, shall we?"
At this moment in time, the author of this story fell under the vicious attack from writer's block and was unable to fill in the fine details of the plot as they occurred next in the narrative. Thus, all we are left with is a Big Gray Fuzzy Area in between the last plot point and the next one, which shall occur shortly. And indeed it will be a short point, as all points have no dimensions.
So they arrived on Planet Gukmor. The Sludge of the Universe were extremely angry indeed, as they had every right to be, judging from their name. "Why do you persist so?" they asked Max. "Do you not know the supreme power of the Sludge of the Universe? Do not resist us! Do not persist in resisting us, we insist!"
"Huh? Who are you?"
"The Sludge of the Universe!"
"Didn't I eat that last night?"
"Dah!" A slap against someone's forehead. "You know, your jokes aren't funny."
"What jokes?"
Meanwhile, somewhere else, the highly combustible deposits of aggravatium-223 gas were slowly leaking throughout the cosmosphere, rendering all life highly incomprehensible, not to mention dumbfounded with a vengeance. The gas made its way to Planet Gukmor and confused everybody, including the reader, since Gukmor is another name for whatever planet you are on.
"Indeed it is so," said a random person on the street. "The Great All Encompassing Matter Disarray, inhabiting the Celestial Tetrahedron, demands it so. All hail the Great All-Encompassing Matter Disarray, the unknowable and divine." Certain gestures of worship ensued.
"Alas, my plan has failed!" said the leader of the Sludge of the Universe. "What happened to Max?"
Max woke up. What a horrible dream! Turnips and highly combustible deposits of aggravatium-223 gas and Big Gray Fuzzy Areas and strange people representing the Sludge of the Universe and everything! Max was thoroughly confused. Why did he have these dreams anyway? Maybe he shouldn't eat so much expired cheese before going to sleep.
He opened his eyes and saw two giant feral turnips bearing the logo of the Sludge of the Universe on their uniforms.
"What the--?"
We now skip ahead to some time in the future, where things start getting really interesting, for the plot has gotten entangled within itself and the knots must be removed by skilled technical experts experienced in handling this type of difficulty.
"Come with me, and we shall escape this confounded heck of a whatchamacallit situation," said Zax, the current Princess of Planet Flibluor, who often moonlighted secretly as a renegade spy against the Very Big Empire. She was currently trying to sabotage the headquarters of the Very Big Empire's Fourteenth Branch, but that is another plotline entirely and shall not be discussed within the context of this story.
"What now?" said Max.
"Eh... just follow me, and we'll get out of here."
They were stuck in some kind of convoluted mess of a something that looked kind of like a doughnut rolled in on itself and squished around a bit. And the Sludge of the Universe were after them.
"But...why?"
"Because this plot has gotten too messed up for us to make any sense out of it."
So Max followed Zax, and they both got confused after walking around in circles for two hours.
"Dang," Zax said. "Why does my name rhyme with yours?"
"It doesn't. My real name is John. I just like calling myself Max because it sounds cool."
Suddenly, a giant turnip showed up and asked to see their passports.
"What passports?" Max said, suddenly even more confused than he was before.
"Forget about it," Zax said, and took a flying leap through the air at the turnip, slicing it in two.
"What the heck?"
"Forget about it. This didn't happen. You saw nothing."
Another Big Gray Fuzzy Area loomed ahead, and our heroes underwent some kind of time travel or something, at least the narrative kind, where the author just leaves off and then resumes the action a period of time later. This was exactly the case, as Max and Zax emerged from the wormhole.
"What the heck? Where are we?" Max said.
"Judging from that sign over there, I'd say we've found ourselves at the climax of the story," Zax said.
"Ooooh... It looks so fuzzy..."
And indeed it was, because they had entered the Realm of Great Fuzziness, where Max and Zax were now going to battle the Sludge of the Universe, who had just appeared out of nowhere, to the death, as required by the messed-up plot of this story.
"I protest! I don't like this place!" Max said.
"Too fuzzy for you?" the Sludge of the Universe said in unison.
"Can we just skip this part and get to the denouement so I can get out of here and go back to sleep? Please?" Max said.
The Sludge of the Universe remained silent in unison.
Meanwhile, the highly combustible deposits of aggravatium-223 gas were slowly leaking throughout the cosmosphere, rendering all life highly incomprehensible, not to mention dumbfounded with a vengeance. It quickly tore apart the universe, rendering the events of this story meaningless and needlessly convoluted.
And everyone lived happily ever after, if indeed they lived, which was highly doubtful since the universe had just been torn apart. And even if they did indeed live happily ever after, it would result in a rather boring sequel. So they didn't live happily ever after, either way.
And so the universe came to an official end.
And then the entire story started all over again, to the general dismay of everybody.
Copyright © 2003 by The Invincible Spud