The World’s Worst Apocalyptic Romance: Even Worse Edition

By Van Millvele and Janky Fluffy

The World's Worst Apocalyptic Romance

 

Chefs Delkcoda wants clueless Allen to acknowledge their growing love and escape the apocalypse their boss Betty started.  

Betty wants to take over the world with sugar-obsessed zombies and giant robots that look like children's toys.

 

Enjoy the Even Worse Edition of The World's Worst Apocalyptic Romance of the Galaxy.  

 

Ghoul Flint, Toby and Braquel in this novel is a distinct character from Conform or Suffer. It's just a gag to reuse names, but Janky Fluffy and Van Millvele own the rights on both sets of characters. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: ThankfulPlanet75
• Release date: Apr 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201426538

Book preview

Chapter 1 Jester Robots Must Die

3D printed hands reached for Delkcoda’s throat.

Come with me or die, repulsive humanoid. The rusted Killer Robot resembled The Wizard of Oz’s Tin Man repurposed for a low-budget horror movie, where the robot annoyed the audience with cheesy dialogue.

Delkcoda backed away and sprinted through the woods. The ground trembled from bombing in the distance, and she lost her balance.

Lady, your tacky clothes make my processing chips hurt. The off-brand robot ripped strands of Delkcoda’s black hair out as it yanked her Bunny ears.

Robotic speech is programmed to be smart and precise, but you sound shallow. She broke away and grabbed the nearest fallen branch. Wood splintered as she swung into the robot’s metal torso.

Our owner will give you a makeover and sell you. The robot snatched her waterproof backpack and threw it onto a patch of dead grass.

Delkcoda broke off a stronger branch from an oak tree with her mismatched gloved hands. She clobbered the robot with dozens of blows, but the wood didn’t splinter. Chunks of metal and plastic fell into the dirt until a mound of parts remained. She sifted through the pieces. I can’t find the manufacturing information to tell me who built this piece of junk.

Newer robots crept behind sycamore trees. The Killer Robots imitated giant children’s toys to dupe their victims, and their bulky clockwork bodies marched towards her with unblinking rainbow eyes.

She struck the closest robot with her branch. My grandmother told me that I’d be the first to die when the robots invaded, but she was wrong. 

A robot wearing a jester hat grabbed her arm. I wish you’d die tonight. The android wore a jacket printed with the words, Happy Jester Party Robots. Genetic enhancements are not detected, and her powers are minimal. The hideous woman is a humanoid from the planet, Ex-Kindness.

The Jester Robot whipped out a laser gun from an oversized pocket.

Please, don’t kill her. She has special talents that make her valuable, three robots said in unison.

The Jester Robot pointed the laser gun at the others. My weapon is a glorified stun gun, but it is safer. Idiots, I couldn’t kill her with this ridiculous toy if a weirdo programmed me to. If you had souls, I could kill, maim, or short you losers. 

Another robot slammed a manufactured fist into the Jester Robot’s tin jaw.

Delkcoda slipped away, and she bolted further into the woods. A laser beam whizzed by her nose, and she scowled. Were you 3D printed by the lowest bidder and programmed by drug addicts? Your dialogue lines were stolen from a lame video game Megan forced me to play.

A mathematical genius programmed us. The Jester Robot fired the laser gun at her again.

She struck the Jester Robot with her branch. You couldn’t hit a static target stapled to your leg. 

Yes, I can. The Jester Robot fired into its own leg. I’m stunned. No, my circuits are damaged. 

Delkcoda outpaced her other attackers as they tripped over the fallen Jester Robot.

A single raindrop fell on her neon patchwork jacket and leopard print cocktail dress. Her pink sneakers landed on the ground.

Delkcoda rambled to herself. I’m glad I wasn’t caught in the apocalypse with pumps. It would be impossible to fight the hordes of Killer Robots unless I used them as weapons against a demented clown.

Rain poured down on her as she ran, but the thunder didn’t mask the roar of bombs in the distance.

She located the bike path and dashed out of the way of a Zamboni-sized driverless yellow construction tank called a Creepie. Massive metal tongs snatched people, bikes, and clown cars.

The Creepie sped after police officers riding mountain bikes. The massive machine dove into a pit disguised with sticks and grass. 

Delkcoda waved at the officers, but they didn’t notice her in the heavy rain.

She ran down a side road until she reached the abandoned horse stable. The branch fell from her hands, and Delkcoda collapsed on the cement and hay floor. Her stomach ached for the food stashed in her backpack. 

She glanced up at her coworker and friend, Allen.

Raindrops fell from her hair and jacket, and a pleasant aroma of earthy rain and vanilla clung to her skin. 

He helped her up. What happened to you?

Robots ambushed me. Delkcoda rubbed her forehead and neck. I’m furious because of the onslaught of brainless machines trying to capture or kill me.

Allen nodded in agreement. He looked like a cute anime boy and was twenty-six-years-old. Allen was Human, but he was not Earth Human. I’m sick of being forced to go to the bathroom outside like we’re animals. The robots destroyed the public bathrooms in the park. I despise being hungry, terrified, and on the run. His fingers ran through his purple and black hair because he lacked a comb. Allen removed oversized camera rags from his backpack-style film camera bag, and he cleaned his dusty face. I don’t want you to think I became a slob.

Allen, at least we’re alive. Delkcoda and Allen sometimes steered conversations away from the apocalypse into other subjects. Allen, where are Megan and Betty?

He stared at the stable’s wooden sliding doors and placed his film bag over his back. They never arrived. We’ll check the park and walk to the closest evacuation point if they’re not there.

Delkcoda leaned on a haystack. I bought food, but the woman refused to take my money. I needed to barter the friendship bracelet you made me for my birthday.

You could have traded your rolls of toilet paper for the food. I didn’t hock the wallet you gave me. Allen turned away from her.

Delkcoda wrung the water from her jacket and spread it on a haystack. We need the toilet paper, and she collects handmade jewelry, but I’d rather lose the bracelet than have you starve to death or eat another weed and insect salad. 

Allen pouted, but he turned around. Well, I hope you traded your bracelet for a bagel sandwich and a can of beans. I bartered the autobiography Betty gave me for canteens and water bottles.

When the former canteen owners read the book, they will run screaming. I read our boss’s writing and trading it to someone is abuse. She smirked and winked at Allen.

He ran out of litter. Allen handed her a canteen.

Her fingers grasped the canteen, and she guzzled the lukewarm water. Thank you for not teasing me and calling me Bun-Bun. Only Glenda-Ezer’s family may call me by my last name. I can’t afford to change it. Your girlfriend says I’m tacky and cheap, similar to Dime-Bun-Bun snack crumpets.

She is my ex-girlfriend, and you know I’d never call you names. Stop listening to her. Allen scooted next to Delkcoda. What did you bring?

She removed glazed American biscuits, stuffed with leftovers from her backpack. I gave you a clue. We have three dozen thrifty Dime-Bun-Buns. I bought fig, sausage, lemon, meatloaf, and cherry. A robot smashed two when it tossed my bag. She ate a broken cherry Dime-Bun-Bun. I want Megan’s tongue mangled, so I can’t hear her yapping about how horrible I am. 

I’d love that too. Allen’s stomach grumbled when the fragrance of lemon wafted to his nose. He clutched his Dime-Bun-Bun and licked the glaze.

She isn’t wrong. I’ve hidden my penny-pinching ways from you out of embarrassment. Allen, I’m the cheapest woman in the galaxy. My clothes are from swaps, the trash bin, or the clearance section. I raided recycling bins for glassware, slept in a closet, forged weeds for salads, and devoured stale cereal with water, she said. 

I’ve always known because I’m as broke as you are, but I learned we had more in common than desperation. Allen shoved the rest of the Dime-Bun-Bun into his mouth. Our deceased crew members were catnip heads who ate processed chocolate snack cakes, not that we can find packages on store shelves. Dime-Bun-Buns are homemade glory. I’m not saying this because I’m starving. Well, I am starving. Don’t let Megan steal your simple pleasures.

Delkcoda picked apart a Dime-Bun-Bun and glanced around the stable. Grab your camera and place it in your harness. Megan will become wasted and lose hers. Allen pointed to the film camera on top of a haystack. Can I toss my trash into the River Shakespeare or stomp on it?

Delkcoda touched the camera. Your film footage will help the authorities. The Ministry police will gain control back, and the Unicorn Generals are already helping.

Don’t lie to spare my feelings. I can tell the difference between thunder and missiles. My life isn’t worth money. You can film after I die. He glanced at the film camera again.

Allen, if you die, your mom will kill me and scrapbook about it.

Mom is not planning to leave the planet Island-Pit when they do the changeover. You are safe from her. Allen ate a sausage Dime-Bun-Bun as he stared at the camera. I planned to give my camera to Betty and quit early.

Don’t let Betty or Megan touch your camera. I wish I didn’t take this job. I’m sure my friend would have hired us. He is a young colonel of his own ship, Delkcoda said.

I wish we both did. Betty deleted the footage because she smudged her eye shadow. I hate working on her shallow gossip show. She knows how to use a film camera and can program computers better than Megan. I didn’t apply to be a cameraman. She cut the assistant catering position to tick me off. Allen chomped on another Dime-Bun-Bun. Betty is scum.

She told me she wanted you to expand your skills and for you to earn more money. Betty used to be cordial to us, Delkcoda said.

No, she paid me less, and half of what she paid Megan. Allen grabbed a cherry Dime-Bun-Bun and sunk his teeth into it. Betty is a fantastic actress when she wants to be, but she stopped acting. When you were on sick leave, Betty forced me to be her assistant. She didn’t cause the apocalypse, but she isn’t kind. Betty encouraged Megan and the others to taunt you.

Megan needs no help to humiliate me. She says she’ll kill me. Delkcoda clutched her damp jacket and wrapped it around her waist.

She also claimed her face was a pickle sandwich. Allen scrunched his face as if he smelled something terrible.

The stable’s sliding door rattled. Delkcoda stood and backed away. Megan, are you there?

Killer Robots covered in horse manure burst through the door, and Delkcoda kicked the closest robot.

Allen strapped his camera into its harness, and they dashed into the forest. Storm clouds moved in the opposite direction, and the sun fell behind the horizon.

Chapter 2 Megan Gets Baked

Afading breeze tossed the swings back and forth next to the smoldering heap that was once a public restroom. 

Gingerbread men-shaped lanterns were strung across apple trees, streaming light over Megan’s form. She clutched her film camera as she crawled through the mud and grass. Her fox tail dragged until her fingers reached a massive bush, and she hid in the shadowy space underneath its leaves. I won’t arrive at the stable, and I don’t remember why.

Betty ran behind a children’s merry-go-round. Why don’t we play on the swings together?

I’m not coming out, Megan whined.

Honey, you’re causing me to ruin my shoes.

Oh yes, a maniac is after me. Megan swallowed a pill she retrieved from her camera bag strapped to her back. Betty Mary-Sue killed Strawberry Clark. Why didn’t she kill Delkcoda instead?

I can hear your annoying yapping. Betty ran her fingers up and down the chain of the swing. 

Megan stared into the film camera’s lens and recorded her face. Delkcoda, if you ever see this film, you are cheap, stuck up, and stole your clothes from a hipster clown that died in a festering garbage heap. Do any of your clothes match? Megan’s eyes glazed over. Why am I here?

"Because you’re dying of a drug overdose or being