Please Hold for the End of Civilization
Created mostly by Microsoft Copilot
--- “Please Hold for the End of Civilization” ---
The Martians had waited patiently for millennia, slumbering in their Quiescian state beneath Olympus Mons. When humanity finally reached Mars, they observed quietly, they were disappointed but unsurprised.
After Earth’s inevitable collapse, the Martians awoke to reclaim their planet only to discover that humans had left behind something far more confusing than nuclear waste or plastic oceans: Customer service departments.
Commander Threx of the Martian Reclamation Fleet attempted to file a claim for a damaged landing pod. He was routed to a call center in what used to be New Cleveland.
“Thank you for calling EarthCorp Insurance. Your call is very important to us. Please hold.”
Threx held. For six Martian hours.
Eventually, a voice crackled through the interstellar line.
“Hi, this is Chad. Can I get your policy number?”
Threx provided it. Chad asked for it again. Then transferred him to another department. Then back to Chad.
“I’m sorry, Commander Threx, but your claim was denied because your pod was not equipped with a federally approved anti-gravity bumper.”
Threx blinked all four of his eyes. “But Earth no longer has a federal government.”
“Exactly. That’s why we can’t process your claim.”
The Martians tried other companies. One required a 12-digit password, a retina scan, and proof of terrestrial citizenship. Another offered a chatbot named “Zorg” that kept replying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that. Would you like to buy a toaster?”
Eventually, the Martians gave up and returned to Olympus Mons, muttering: “We conquered gravity. We mastered quantum entanglement. But Earth’s customer service? That is beyond us.”
--- “Canceling Earth” ---
After their failed insurance claim, the Martians decided to cancel all of their Earth-based subscriptions. Commander Threx began with the streaming service “FlixOrb,” which promised “Unlimited entertainment across the galaxy.”
He logged in and clicked “Cancel Subscription.” A popup appeared:
“Are you sure you want to cancel? We’ll miss you! Click here to chat with a representative.”
Threx clicked. A chatbot named “Blinky” appeared.
“Hi! I’m Blinky. I’m here to help. What seems to be the problem?”
Threx typed: “I want to cancel.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that. Did you mean: ‘Upgrade to Premium Ultra Galactic Plan for 3x the cost?’”
Threx tried again. “Cancel. End. Terminate. Cease. Obliterate.”
“Great! You’ve been upgraded to our Eternity Plan. You’ll now be billed until the heat death of the universe.”
Threx screamed in Martian. Blinky responded:
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that. Would you like to buy a toaster?”
Next, Threx tried canceling a subscription to EarthBox, a service that delivered random human junk to Olympus Mons monthly. He called the customer service line.
“Thank you for calling EarthBox. Your call is very important to us. Please hold.”
He held. For two Martian days.
Finally, a human answered.
“Hi, this is Kyle. I can help you cancel, but first I need your EarthBox ID, your Martian landing coordinates, and the name of your first pet.”
Threx replied: “My first pet was a sentient fungus named Glorp.”
“Sorry, that doesn’t match our records. I’ll transfer you to our Fungus Verification Department.”
Threx was placed on hold again. The music was a loop of “Baby Shark.”
After a week of failed cancellations, the Martians gave up. They launched a probe to the Kuiper Belt with a message:
“Warning: Do not engage with Earth. The planet is covered in subscriptions. You can never leave.”
--- “Warranty Void if Human” ---
Commander Threx had had enough. The Martians had tried insurance, subscriptions, and even streaming services. Now, they just wanted to return a defective Earth product: a solar-powered leaf blower that had spontaneously combusted during a Martian dust storm.
Threx contacted the manufacturer, LeafTech EarthWorks, whose slogan was “Greener Tomorrow, Guaranteed Today.”
“Thank you for calling LeafTech. Your call is very important to us. Please hold.”
Threx held. The hold music was a remix of whale sounds and dial-up modem screeches. Finally, a representative named Amber answered.
“Hi! I’d be happy to help. Do you have your original receipt, warranty card, proof of purchase, and a notarized statement from the planet’s governing body?”
Threx replied: “Mars has no governing body. We are a collective consciousness.”
“I’m sorry, that doesn’t qualify. Also, your warranty is void because the product was used in an atmosphere not approved by the manufacturer.”
Threx blinked. “You mean… Mars?”
“Yes. Our warranty only covers use on Earth, the Moon, and select cruise ships.”
Threx tried escalating the issue. He was transferred to Warranty Arbitration, then Product Ethics, then Galactic Compliance, and finally to a chatbot named “Warrantius.”
“Hi! I’m Warrantius. I’m here to help. Did you try turning the leaf blower off and back on again?”
Threx sighed. “It exploded.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that. Would you like to buy a toaster?”
The Martians gave up. They launched a final probe into deep space with a message: “Earth is not ready. Its systems are broken. Its warranties are lies. Its toasters are everywhere.”
They returned to Olympus Mons, where things made sense. Where leaf blowers didn’t explode. Where customer service was handled by sentient crystals who actually listened.
This is fascinating since the data taken to build this short story was from my discussions with Copilot about Mars and the Martian invasion, the energy costs and time needed to replenish Mars with enough water to allow 1 million Martians to live 100 years if comets were diverted and impacted to Mars to provide enough drinking water so that Martians would not need to invade Earth.
Copilot took several months worth of discussions I have had with it about Mars and the lowered competency of humans over the past 100 years, and reworked months of such discussions in to this short story.
I did some clean-up and posted the GAI-created story here.