To most, the penultimate day of planet Earth was uneventful, with the majority of the planet’s population going about their business as though it were any other day. But for those in astronomical communities, however, the night afterwards brought with it a massive source of dread. Automated systems were the first to pick up on the anomaly, with those observing it thinking of it as nothing but a glitch in the reading of gravitational distortions.

However, as the minutes passed and observatories all over the globe shared and confirmed their findings with each other, it became immediately clear that, however impossible these readings may seem, their eyes and instruments were not at fault. Somehow, a part of space less than an AU away had simply stopped, any activity behind it frozen in place.

In normal circumstances, organizations such as the ESA and NASA would be quick to broadcast their findings, but something about this terrified them. Previous discoveries could easily be used to further broaden and fill in gaps in the cosmic web, even if slightly contradicting conjectures from the past. This was something far different, as though the universe itself was making itself known. Or something within the universe, far outside human comprehension.

The president of the United States was the first to know, with the pool of those in the loop being limited to not much further down the chain of command to prevent leaking their findings to the general public. It would be hard to keep the potential discovery of advanced alien life or definitive proof of God from spiraling out of control.

Yet even with the precautions taken, rumors started to swirl as amateur astronomers posted their own findings on message boards, making the asynchronous nature of space far more apparent with dawn finally breaking. After all, who could ignore a massive circle above most of North America, still displaying the night sky as it even shone through the daylight scattered through the atmosphere?

Anyone with a passing familiarity with science fiction knew exactly what was happening, and within twelve hours since first detection, press conferences were being held worldwide regarding this potential first contact with alien life. Any attempts to communicate or even detect whatever these beings were ended in failure; however, the brightest minds on Earth were unable to detect radio signals or even radiation from where the ship was supposedly hiding.

Those who figured that the ship was hiding, albeit poorly, for a reason decided to make the most of what they thought was their final day, justifiably calling the day off from work and ticking off whatever they could from their bucket list. But most of Earth just carried on with their jobs as though nothing was amiss. After all, capitalism ensured that even a potential apocalypse was no reason to call off from work.

Most scientists had been awake for more than 24 hours by this point, struggling to attain any indication of life from the barrier. Half the size of Earth’s sun, it should have been an easy enough target to focus on, but any lasers fired to attain distance, mass, or materials were simply absorbed. The only thing that was detected was the powerful light being emitted; the closest analog to a human invention was some hyper-advanced LED screen.

With few options left, there was little the earthlings could do but wait for whatever these beings were to make first contact themselves, clearly not allowing humanity the privilege. And 52 hours after first appearing in the sky, their patience was rewarded, but in a most horrifying way.

Most had thought that the artificial mirage was simply hiding a mothership or fleet behind it, so nobody was prepared for when the view of the universe behind it simply disappeared, leaving a blindingly bright hole in reality. Those not blinded by the sight could only stare up in awe, their eyes slowly adjusting to the light to reveal a faint shadow, slowly exiting from what was clearly now a portal. 

If space agencies were able to have one of their satellites observe the other side of the anomaly, it would have been clear that this viewport was only one way, with light simply passing through it to reveal the planet. But that would have taken months, not the minutes the planet had left as five massive objects, each easily eclipsing the Earth’s width, emerged from the light. Except these weren’t just objects, but appendages. This wasn’t a spacecraft, but a massive hand.

Those viewing in awe weren’t sure whether the fear of such a large being was causing their perception of time to slow or if the distance between the hand and Earth only made it appear to move slowly, but the time it took the paw to reach the Earth allowed everyone on one side of the planet to bask in what was essentially a deity to them. One who’s mere hand eclipsed anything that humanity could ever amount to.

Fully illuminated by the sun, light was easily able to bounce off the black pawpad of the organic celestial body, each wrinkle and crevice easily visible from just the naked eye, and surrounding the base of the hand was a forest of golden brown, each individual strand of fur rivaling even the largest cities. And as the hand continued to emerge from the portal towards Earth, joined by an equally-sized wrist and arm, nobody could be prepared for when the giant spoke.

For such a large creature, one might expect their voice to be incomprehensible to human ears, if even heard at all past the vacuum of space. But through his will, the message was clear as day, broadcasted directly into the minds of humanity, and translated into any language needed. Only a single word was necessary to get the point across, one that made clear both intention and exactly what the giant thought of the casual nature of what he was about to do.

”Yoink!”

#

And that was all anyone needed to hear to fully understand their fate—the massive fingers that spanned the entire horizon jotting forward at a speed thought impossible, encompassing the Earth before lowering down to capture it within his grasp. In that final moment, people prayed both to their own deities as well as to their new god in anticipation of the planet being crushed to atoms.

Except that never happened.

The first to open their eyes were met with a vast darkness across the entire sky, illuminated only by streetlamps and houselights. Both the sun and stars appeared to have been snuffed out entirely, their light just barely poking through the gaps in-between the fingers, clenched into a fist surrounding the entire planet. Why the Earth wasn’t immediately destroyed by the giant was likely due to his will alone, turning the atmosphere itself into a malleable shield that just barely prevented his hand from making an apocalyptic landfall.

While even the most powerful military spotlights failed to fully illuminate the giant’s flesh, the already impressive wrinkles and cracks across his pawpad were easily shown to have expanded into canyons that could contain all life on the planet with room to spare. Each microscopic movement was felt a thousandfold, and even though he was not in direct contact with the Earth, his body heat diffused into the atmosphere to irreversibly leave his mark.

Careful enough to not damage the globe or its inhabitants while he drew his hand back through the portal, not a single person was physically affected by the mild quakes felt across the globe. The same could not be said for their mental state; however, the brains of everyone, from politicians to scientists to blue-collar workers, were at best in a state of stunned silence.

All news stations across the globe had gone dark, since anything else in the world was instantly rendered meaningless in comparison to the events that people could just look outside to witness. Even the birds were quiet, giving way to an uncanny absence of sound as the hand finally withdrew through the portal completely, closing it behind the giant and silencing humanity’s presence in this universe forever.

Now severed from everything they once knew, those on the planet were subject to radiant, golden beams of light leaking through the mile-sized gaps between the furry fingers. Almost heavenly in nature, even more of the populace became convinced that this being who had abducted them was nothing less than a deity, a theory that only seemed to be confirmed once he finally unclenched his fist.

The closest comparison that anyone could make of their surroundings was that of a Greek temple, the walls coated with a brilliant mixture of gold and marble. Towering pillars that the collective forces of humanity couldn’t hope to construct in a thousand years helped to support a roof polished to perfection, and in place of a floor were massive nebulae that molded around the thick paw-pads of the planet’s captor as he walked across it, still mostly obscured through his enormity.

The air itself was just as heavenly, the pillars making way for a sky filled with the most gorgeous hues of pink, purple, and yellow. Gaseous clouds featuring a similar hue led towards a chair-like throne larger than Earth’s sun, atop which sat another being, just as cosmically large as the one everyone was still trapped in the grip of.

At first, more noticeable than the alien himself was the jewelry he was wearing. Bracelets, rings, and even an angelic halo were coated in an immaculate gold, the amount needed far surpassing the natural resources of even a thousand copies of Earth. The ornaments complimented the natural light brown of his fur, perfectly maintained and groomed. Even those not already worshiping the giant found it hard not to be drawn in by his majesty.

With some great relative distance between him and the planet to allow more than a hand to remain in focus, it became easier for the populace facing him to get somewhat of a grasp on what these aliens actually look like. Bipedal in stature, he appeared both unlike anything seen on Earth yet oddly human. His sun-sized visage displayed massive buck teeth, with two tall ears atop his head.

Humans tend to seek familiarity and patterns, and as such, they immediately conjured images of a hare when looking at the deity, further justified by the telltale twitching nose native to that species as it held up an immense pair of glasses. A tuft of brown hair dropped down just atop one eye, barely obscuring the pink eyeliner that helped to highlight them as the massive globes stared down at both the planet and its captor. A captor that once again spoke, both to the rabbit as well as to humanity.

“I got ‘cha a very special planet for my very special bun bun!" While his tone was likely intended as cutesy towards it’s recipient, to those on Earth, the booming declaration came across as an apathetic taunt, condemning their entire world to the fate of being just an object in the possession of this ‘Bun Bun’.

The colossal hare simply let out a stifled giggle before outstretching his arm. “You spoil me sometimes, Racc~"—a statement that helped to confirm the species of the other figure in the room. And without a moment’s notice, the entire planet was ripped from the fur of the raccoon alien’s paw and through the air towards the beckoning rabbit.

Telekenetically controlling the Earth’s trajectory, he easily moved it past his body and towards a massive bowl sitting just to the side of his throne. As the planet descended, occupants on the correct side were finally able to see the full figure of their captor. Much like they assumed, he was an anthropomorphic raccoon, as his counterpart was a rabbit, with distinctive swirling goggles atop his head.

In fact, as high-resolution images of the duo spread across the last remnants of the internet, a select few artists and members of specific fandom groups realized they looked almost familiar. Beings only seen in drawings and prose, built to fill a specific, macrophilic niche. And as one horrified artist looked upon what should have been his own imagined creation, all he could do was sit back and watch the very apocalypse he fantasized about come to life.

Earth was not alone in the bowl; planets of various sizes and colors were its equally doomed peers. Each world was host to billions of lives, all of which would be extinguished completely within minutes. The only reason that they didn’t immediately collapse through either the force of this realm’s gravity or by just bouncing into each other like marbles was the same shielding the raccoon used when first handling the Earth.

Humanity was seemingly given no further care nor recognition above the other planets as the bowl was picked up and taken to the center of the temple, where a small picnic blanket had been set up. Florally patterned with roses far larger than Earth itself, the duo of gods simply sat down on the mat with their snacks, giggling like schoolchildren on a sleepover at what they were about to do as they were fully aware of the trillions of lives about to meet their end by their hands.

Or rather, stomachs.

It had become somewhat of a weekly tradition for Dyl and Doc, each of them making sure to alternate which snacks to bring to their date. From galaxy-infused smoothies to just a regular old-fashioned shepherd’s pie, the act of creating for each other brought them closer than most anything else. The raccoon had decided on somewhat of a simpler snack this time around, just assorted planets he picked from a random universe, unprepared as they were easy to collect. It didn’t matter if they lacked proper cooking or seasoning; the deities could make them taste however they pleased.

Not content to simply pick from the bowl, a far more intimate and enjoyable method of consumption was chosen, although the people of Earth, several layers deep beneath countless other candy-sized worlds, were all the more unaware as the bowl was once again raised. But instead of being placed back down as it had been in the past, the star-spanning container was instead tilted down, sending the planets tumbling towards the edge.

The view from Earth still mostly obscured, Those on the western hemisphere could only see flashes of what was happening, but those flashes, mixed with the obvious context clues, made it clear what was happening. The bowl was being emptied out into an immense maw. Shades of darker brown and black seen through the cracks indicated that this was ‘Racc’, his counterpart pouring the candies out towards a pit of certain death.

Pulled forwards both through gravity and the avalanche of other planets, the Earth was but a moment away from being consumed when the flow finally subsided and the bowl was once again adjusted to be facing upwards. The fate of the planets not so lucky was announced through a loud gulp, echoing through the entire chamber. With Doc having taken his filling, it was now Dyl’s turn to finish the bowl off.

Now at the top of the pile, those on Earth were able to get a fleeting glimpse of the godly duo as the bowl was transferred from one to the other, with the raccoon just barely able to sneak in a smooch on the rabbit’s cheek as he completed the action. And then the sky once again became blank as the bowl was lifted above the awaiting maw of its recipient, an almost taunting “Mlehhhhh~" followed by a giggle showing just how little the giants thought about their actions.

Time appeared to move in slow motion as the container once again tilted, giving humanity front-row seats to their own consumption and showing the rabbit’s galactic visage in frightening detail. Otherwise defining features such as his ears, eyelashes, and adorable nose were inconsequential in comparison to his immense maw, his tongue lazily lolling out from the endless, pink cavern whilst heavily salivating.

The few planets that already managed to escape from the bowl had by now reached their final destination, passing by his mountainous teeth towards the black hole of this rabbit’s gullet, already greedily gulping down its food. And as Earth finally began to tumble through the air, with hot, muggy breath easily replacing the shielded atmosphere, only a miracle could save humanity from what was sure to be a gurgly fate.

And a miracle was what they got, for while Doc’s aim of the bowl was mostly accurate, the marble-like nature of the planets caused a few to veer off course. Instead of being taken in by the tongue, Earth instead smashed into Dyl’s enormous buck teeth at the roof of the mouth, bouncing off and dropping to the floor below. Not that the planet was left unscathed, for even the initial protective shielding for transport couldn’t handle such an impact, the enamel flattening most of the western hemisphere.

Smacking his lips in satisfaction with the bowl finally empty, Dyl didn’t even realize that he missed a planet until he looked down, a tiny, blue marble resting near where he was kneeled on the picnic blanket. And while the blanket itself was clean, he didn’t want to eat food off the floor, no matter how tasty it was. So while Doc moved to place the bowl away, he decided to repurpose the Earth into some light entertainment.

Moving one of his paws to near his chest, the rabbit deity casually separated two of his toebeans before placing the entire planet between the two. The few still alive on Earth could only watch from amongst the rubble as they were surrounded by a mixture of toejam and fur, too weak to even scream in horror as the forces keeping the toes from passing through the atmosphere started to buckle before fina-

CRUNCH

#

Dyl giggled at how quickly the puny rock collapsed just from a light squeeze. The toestop barely lasted a few seconds against his bappers. Brushing the rubble off onto the blanket, the hare didn’t give any further thought to the Earth or to the billions of lives, including that of his creator, that he destroyed just for a moment of entertainment. He simply went to follow Doc to enjoy the rest of his eternal bliss.