Orange Juice for the Human Soul

A Dark Satirical Sci-Fi Story About Authoritarian Futures, Alien Experiments, and Cloned Tyranny

Orange Juice for the Human Soul is a surreal dystopian story that spirals from political nightmare into full-blown cosmic absurdity. Told in first person, it follows a fugitive hiding from clone patrols in a future where power has curdled into spectacle and obedience has been industrialized. The world is loud with propaganda, stripped of nuance, and ruled by a grotesque figure who feels less like a leader and more like a corrupted symbol made flesh.

The journey begins in the Sierra Madre mountains of Mexico, where escape from surveillance and pursuit leads to something far stranger than safety. Glowing mushrooms—alive with color and rhythm—collapse the boundary between reality and hallucination. Through that altered state, an impossible structure emerges from the jungle: El Dorado, the city of gold. Inside, myth and machinery merge. Gold walls breathe. Jade-colored liquid metal flows through corridors like blood. The pyramid reveals itself not as a relic, but as a living system—an alien base hidden deep within the Earth.

At the center of El Dorado is a blunt, unsettling revelation: humanity was never meant to end up like this. Earth, it turns out, was an experiment—one mishandled by an alien engineer named Bob, whose casual incompetence carries planetary consequences. What was supposed to be a peaceful environment spiraled into authoritarian control, cloned enforcers, and mass worship of power. Bob isn’t evil or grandiose; he’s worse—detached, sarcastic, and painfully human in his mistakes.

As the story descends into the cloning chambers beneath El Dorado, the tone shifts from satire into something heavier and more unstable. Identical soldiers emerge from vats in endless rows. History is reduced to replication. When the ruler finally appears in his true form, the world itself begins to warp—thoughts become slogans, symbols gain psychic weight, and reality bends under belief. What follows is not a clean apocalypse, but a glitching collapse fueled by excess, repetition, and unchecked authority.

Orange Juice for the Human Soul balances dark humor with genuine dread, moving quickly while letting its images linger. It’s a story about systems that outgrow their creators, about jokes that stop being funny, and about how easily order can rot into spectacle. Psychedelic, absurd, and intentionally overwhelming, it reads like a fever dream with teeth—equal parts satire, nightmare, and cosmic accident.

This is not a story about heroes saving the world. It’s about witnessing it break, laughing in disbelief, and screaming one name as everything dissolves.