I couldn't believe it. I had just led an army of Fortnite-dancing zombie kids to victory over a bunch of corn-worshipping hillbillies, and now I was standing face-to-face with Bigfoot. And this guy? He was way too chill for someone who looked like a cross between a cryptid and a guy who's never missed a Phish concert.
Bigfoot casually leaned against the rusted tractor, his eyes half-lidded like he'd seen all the weirdness of Ohio and just rolled with it. "You gotta let it all sink in, man," he said, his voice deep and lazy, like every word had been marinated in weed smoke and wisdom. "Ohio's a trip, but it's all vibes, you feel me?"
I blinked, trying to process what was happening. "I literally just fought a cult that worships corn. Now I'm talking to Bigfoot, who's dropping life advice like some kind of cryptid Yoda?"
Bigfoot scratched his furry chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, man, but think about it. Corn is life. Corn is… cyclical. Just like Ohio. Round and round, we all go. The memes, the cults, the chaos, it's all part of the vibe, you know?"
I didn't know. In fact, the more he talked, the less sense any of this made. But something about the way he said it, like this whole corn-filled nightmare was just another Tuesday for him, made me feel a little better. Sort of.
I glanced around at the aftermath of the battle. The redneck cultists had all either retreated or been knocked out cold by TikTok memes. My army of brain-rotted kids had started their victory dances, flossing and dabbing as if they hadn't just fought for their lives. It was as if nothing really phased them, just like Bigfoot.
"Okay," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Look, I don't know what kind of acid trip this whole thing is, but if you're Bigfoot, I've got questions."
Bigfoot nodded sagely, his massive frame still somehow relaxed despite the chaos. "I figured, man. Lay it on me."
I hesitated. "First of all, why the hell are you here? I thought you were, like, a mystery. Some blurry photo people saw in the Pacific Northwest. And why are you so… zen?"
Bigfoot chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that felt like it was vibrating straight through the cornfield. "Oh, that's just the PR, bro. People need a story, and the Pacific Northwest is full of posers. But Ohio? Ohio's the real deal. It's where cryptids like me come to just… vibe. I'm out here because I am Ohio. And Ohio is everything, man. It's corn, memes, chaos, cryptids, and vibes. We just exist, like, outside the matrix, you know?"
I stared at him blankly. "No. No, I don't know. At all."
Before Bigfoot could answer, the cornfield rustled again. For a second, I thought more corn cultists were about to show up for round two, but instead, three figures emerged. These weren't rednecks, though. They looked like… frogs. Giant frogs. In cargo shorts.
I did a double take. Yep, definitely frogs. They were standing upright like humans, their skin slimy and green, and they were wielding laser pointers like swords. One of them, who seemed to be their leader, croaked loudly and pointed his laser pointer at me. "Outsider! You have trespassed on the sacred lands of the Loveland Frogs! Prepare to meet your doom!"
I blinked. "You've gotta be kidding me. Frogs? Really?"
Bigfoot raised his hand casually. "Yo, chill, Loveland Frogs. This dude's cool. He's just, you know, figuring out Ohio. Don't vibe-check him too hard."
The lead frog croaked again, this time louder. "We shall not tolerate outsiders, even with the blessing of Bigfoot! The Great Ribbit demands it!"
"The Great Ribbit?" I asked, throwing my hands up. "First, corn gods, now frog gods? Does everything in Ohio have some weird religion?"
Bigfoot shrugged. "It's Ohio, man. Everyone's gotta worship something."
The frogs weren't interested in a philosophical discussion, though. They were gearing up for a fight, their laser pointers lighting up in menacing red dots that danced across the cornfield.
I groaned, reaching for my phone again. "Alright, fine. You guys wanna throw down? Let's do this."
I scrolled through TikTok, hoping to find something useful. My Brain Rot Overlord powers seemed to glitch out occasionally, but maybe there was something here to stop the frogs. I found a viral meme filter called "Ribbit Reversal." I had no idea what it did, but at this point, what did I have to lose?
I activated the filter, holding up my phone toward the frog-men. The screen flashed, and suddenly, the lead frog was transformed. His big, amphibian face had been swapped with one of those creepy baby filters, making him look like a giant, green infant. The other frogs croaked in confusion, staring at their leader's new face.
"What… what have you done to me?!" the baby-faced frog croaked, his voice now much higher pitched and a little pathetic.
I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, didn't think you were ready for that, huh? Look, you're adorable now."
The other frogs, clearly unsure how to respond, started backing up into the corn, muttering something about the "Great Ribbit" and "cursed outsiders." The baby-faced frog tried to follow them, but he tripped over his own oversized feet, his baby face flailing helplessly as he fell into the dirt.
Bigfoot chuckled softly. "Man, you really got 'em with that one."
I shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not even sure what I did. I just… pressed buttons."
Bigfoot patted me on the shoulder with one of his massive hands, almost knocking me over. "That's how it works, bro. You don't think, you just vibe. That's the way of Ohio."
I stood there for a moment, trying to process everything. I had just defeated a frog cult with a TikTok filter. This was my life now. And yet, somehow, I wasn't even that surprised anymore. Ohio had already broken my brain.
"So, what now?" I asked, turning to Bigfoot. "I mean, I've got a meme army, I've fought corn cultists, and now frog-men. What's next?"
Bigfoot grinned, showing off a set of surprisingly white teeth. "Well, bro, Ohio's full of mysteries. You've just scratched the surface. If you wanna really understand this place, you gotta go deeper. The vibes are only gonna get weirder from here."
I sighed, looking down at my phone again. "Great. Can't wait."
And just like that, Bigfoot started to disappear back into the cornfield, his massive figure blending into the stalks as if he'd never been there at all. "Stay chill, man," he called back, his voice fading. "Ohio's a ride, but you're the Overlord now. You got this."
I watched him go, feeling more confused than ever but somehow… oddly calm. Bigfoot had a way of making even the most ridiculous things sound like they were totally normal. Maybe I really was getting the hang of this whole Brain Rot Overlord thing.
Or maybe Ohio was just finally breaking me.
Either way, I had an army of TikTok zombies and a phone full of meme powers. What could go wrong?
I should've known something was off the second the cornfields started glitching again. The sky flickered like a broken TikTok filter, and the air smelled faintly of burnt toast and Mountain Dew. I was just starting to get used to the weirdness of Ohio, corn cults, cryptids, meme powers, when the next layer of insanity hit me like a UFO doing donuts in a Walmart parking lot.
I was chilling with my TikTok zombie army (who were busy building Fortnite structures out of literal corn), still trying to figure out what the hell Bigfoot meant about "Ohio's deeper mysteries." But then, a loud buzz echoed through the field, followed by a strange hum. I looked up just in time to see the sky above me crack open like an egg. And out of that crack, a literal UFO descended. Yep. Full-on flying saucer, complete with flashing lights and a bass drop like it was about to hit a rave.
I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Great. As if things weren't messed up enough. Now we've got aliens?"
The saucer hovered over the cornfield, and before I could make any dumb jokes about Area 51 or "probes," a beam of light shot down from it, bathing the ground in a strange, purplish glow. My TikTok zombies immediately froze in place, their Fortnite dances interrupted as they stared blankly at the UFO. I didn't like where this was going.
Suddenly, three figures materialized in the light. They weren't just your average gray aliens, though. These dudes were something else. They had smooth, pale skin, huge bug-like eyes, and... were those... supreme hoodies?
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
The lead alien stepped forward, his massive head bobbing slightly as he tilted it to look down at me. He wore a hoodie that said "Yeet or be Yeeted" in neon letters, and his voice came out in a glitchy, autotuned version of Gen Z slang. "Yo, bruh. We've come to vibe-check you."
I stared at him. "Uh... what?"
The alien's eyes glowed neon pink as he took a step closer. "Vibe-check. You know, bro. Like, you're out here with all this chaotic energy, messing with the Ohio balance and shit. We're here to see if you pass."
One of the other aliens nodded, holding what looked like a giant vape pen with glowing symbols on it. "No cap. We gotta see if you're a real one, or if you're just out here straight sus."
This was not happening. These weren't just aliens, they were alien influencers. They looked like they belonged in the comment section of some cringy Twitch stream. I half-expected them to pull out their phones and start recording a TikTok right then and there.
I shook my head, trying to snap out of it. "Okay, first of all, vibe-checking me? Really? Second of all, what the hell do you mean 'messing with the Ohio balance'?"
The lead alien raised his hands, as if explaining something to a five-year-old. "Bruh, Ohio isn't just a place. It's a state of mind. A glitch in the universal matrix. It's, like, where all the weird shit from across the galaxy comes to hang out. And you, man, you've been flexing some weird-ass meme powers out here, and it's throwing off the vibes."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "So, what? You guys are here to fix Ohio or something?"
The alien shook his head. "Nah, bruh. We don't fix anything. We just, like, chill and judge people. We're basically the universe's vibe police."
I was about to lose my mind. "I don't care what you are. You can't just show up and start vibe-checking people like this is some kind of cosmic TikTok!"
The alien with the vape pen puffed a cloud of glowing mist into the air and leaned forward. "You pass the vibe-check, or you get canceled, bruh. Those are the rules."
I backed up, glancing at my phone. I still had meme powers, right? I could get out of this. I just had to figure out what to use against alien influencers who were trying to vibe-check me.
Then, an idea hit me.
I scrolled through TikTok, my hands shaking as I searched for the right filter. These aliens thought they could cancel me? I'd show them what cancellation really looked like.
Finally, I found it, a meme filter I'd seen go viral a few weeks ago: "Karen Mode."
I grinned as I activated the filter, holding up my phone toward the lead alien. The screen flashed, and suddenly, the air around me changed. It felt like I was standing in the middle of a Target customer service line, with the energy of a thousand angry Karens flowing through me.
The lead alien blinked, clearly confused. "Yo, what's happening?"
"Oh, you're about to find out," I muttered, as my voice transformed into the shrill, entitled tone of someone who always wants to speak to the manager.
"I don't think so, bruh," I snapped, the Karen energy surging through me. "I DEMAND to speak to whoever's in charge here. You can't just show up and vibe-check me! I've been dealing with corn cults, cryptids, and frogs in cargo shorts, and now you think you can just waltz in with your Supreme hoodies and cancel me? I DON'T THINK SO."
The aliens looked stunned, their bug-like eyes wide as my Karen Mode powered up. The lead alien stammered, "Bruh, chill. We're just, "
"No!" I interrupted, cutting him off with a classic Karen hand gesture. "I've had enough. I want to speak to the GALACTIC MANAGER. RIGHT NOW."
The other aliens exchanged nervous glances, backing away slowly. Their neon-pink eyes flickered as if they were short-circuiting.
"I… I don't think we have a manager…" the lead alien mumbled, clearly terrified of what he had unleashed.
I took a step closer, my voice reaching full Karen levels. "Then you are responsible for this mess! I want an apology, and I want it NOW. Or I will leave a one-star review on every space Yelp in existence."
The alien influencers were completely thrown off. One of them dropped his vape pen in sheer panic, while the others stumbled back toward the beam of light that had brought them down.
"We, uh… We didn't mean to disrespect you, bruh," the lead alien said, his voice shaking. "You're… you're totally passing the vibe-check."
I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. "That's more like it."
With that, the aliens scrambled back into their UFO, disappearing in a flash of light. The bass drop sound they'd arrived with echoed once more before the UFO shot off into the sky, leaving nothing but a trail of glitchy stars behind.
I stood there, the power of Karen Mode slowly fading as I watched the sky return to its weird Ohio normal. The cornfield was quiet again, except for the distant sounds of my TikTok zombies resuming their Fortnite dances.
I took a deep breath, still processing everything that had just happened. I'd just defeated a group of alien influencers by going full Karen. This was my life now.
I glanced down at my phone, scrolling through TikTok for new filters. "Yeah, aliens definitely ain't it, chief."