The Four Blorps of the Half-Life Lobby
Fantomo Gost reflects:
I wandered through the Half-Life Lobby again—an accident, as always. That place clings to drifting spirits like static, a waiting room for souls the universe hasn’t quite sorted out.
That’s where I found them: four small, round beings huddled together in perpetual confusion.
I observed quietly.
What follows is the account of what I witnessed.
No one knows exactly where the Half-Life Lobby is located. It might be a misplaced corner of the afterlife… or a storage closet the universe forgot about. What is known is that four small, round, squishy creatures have been stuck there for—well, they’re not sure. Minutes? Centuries? Hard to tell when the only clock is a glowing orb that occasionally screams.
Their names—because someone had to give them names—were Gub, Flim, Orlo, and Peep.
They looked like someone crossed a tennis ball with a marshmallow and then added legs as an afterthought. Eyes too, but not symmetrical. Or the same size. Or pointed in the same direction.
They weren’t sure what they used to be.
“Maybe we were… uh… hedgehogs?” Flim suggested.
Gub bobbed in place. “I don’t think hedgehogs are this round.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Orlo, who had the self-esteem of a slightly dented pumpkin.
Peep, the nicest and squishiest of the bunch, blinked slowly. “What if we were humans?”
Everyone gasped—partly from the idea, partly because one of them always forgot how to breathe (even though they didn’t need to).
Gub shuddered. “Humans? But humans have… bones. Do we have bones?”
They all wiggled experimentally.
No bones. Zero.
Their entire existence was like being made of stress balls and confusion.
“So what are we?” Orlo asked dramatically.
“The result of a cosmic paperwork error,” said a new voice.
They all turned toward the glowing orb on the wall, which had stopped screaming long enough to speak.
“You four got caught between ‘animal,’ ‘human,’ and ‘miscellaneous,’ so the system assigned you the closest available form.”
“Miscellaneous??” Flim squeaked.
“Look on the bright side,” the orb said. “Most miscellaneous creatures don’t get legs.”
Peep raised one squishy limb. “Is there… you know… any way to leave?”
The orb glowed thoughtfully.
“Well… you are the nicest one. You hold doors for the others. You offer emotional support even though none of them have discernible emotions. And you apologized to that void vortex that tried to eat you yesterday.”
“It was just doing its job,” Peep murmured.
“Exactly.” The orb chimed. “You’re cleared for exit.”
A soft, gentle light formed behind Peep, warm and inviting—like a sunrise made of kindness.
Peep turned to the others. “I’ll miss you.”
Gub tried to nod but rolled over. Flim burst into tears, which evaporated because ghosts can’t cry. Orlo attempted a thumbs-up, but no one was sure if the limb he raised was a thumb.
And Peep stepped into the light…
…and vanished with a satisfied plop.
The orb turned back to the remaining three.
“Well,” it said. “Anyone else want to work on being nicer?”
They all thought about it.
Gub raised a squishy leg. “Does not biting Flim yesterday count?”
“No,” said Flim immediately.
And so the three blorps continued on—confused, squishy, and utterly miscellaneous—trying their best to earn their own escape… someday… maybe.
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