Debbie died on a Tuesday. Not in a heroic blaze of glory, not even in her sleep. Nope—mid-spin class, yelling at Karen for cheating on the calorie tracker. One minute she was screaming, “You can’t count a latte as water, Karen!” and the next, poof—her soul was sucked through a glowing butt-shaped wormhole into the afterlife.
When she opened her eyes, she stood in a cosmic waiting room that looked like the DMV, if the DMV was designed by Salvador Dalí on acid. Floating eyeballs in neckties tapped at keyboards. A giant gelatin blob with a monocle and a Judge Judy haircut hovered over her.
“Welcome to the Assessment Nexus,” the blob burbled. “I’m Glarblax, Eternal Judge of Worthiness. Your eternal vibe will now be scored based on your life’s résumé. Good deeds, bad deeds, PTA bake sales—”
“PTA?!” Debbie blinked. “I chaired two bake sales and a spaghetti night with zero fatalities. That should get me at least a spa credit.”
Glarblax checked his clipboard. “Huh. Survived divorce from a crypto bro, raised two kids, and… oh, you once fought a raccoon for a Lunchable?”
“It had my son’s name on it,” Debbie said. “Nobody steals Max’s ham-and-cheese stacker on my watch.”
“Well,” Glarblax said, flipping through glowing pages, “you scored off the charts. Congrats! You’re basically a demigod here. Unfortunately, this place is crawling with literal evil. Care to volunteer?”
A glowing sword popped into her hand. It looked suspiciously like a spatula with LEDs glued to it. Debbie squinted. “What is this? The Bed, Bath & Beyond clearance aisle?”
“It’s the Judgment Sword. You can smite evil with it.”
Debbie grinned. “Call me Cosmic Mom. Time to spank some demons.”
The Vigilante Phase
Cue montage: Debbie roundhouse-kicking horned jerks into the sun, roasting evil CEOs with cosmic fireballs, and chasing down ghostly Karen through the fields of judgment.
“That’s for cutting the pick-up line, Brad!” she yelled, dropkicking a demon lawyer.
“Your Yelp reviews are about to be ONE STAR, baby!” she cackled, swinging her spatula sword at a corrupt lobbyist ghost.
The Nexus loved her. She became an afterlife vigilante, worshipped by terrified villains and adored by spectral PTA moms everywhere.
Contacting the Living
One day, she hacked into the Living World Broadcast System—basically a crystal ball powered by existential dread. The image flickered to life, showing her daughter Chloe onstage, holding an award.
“Oh my god,” Debbie gasped. “She’s an author! A real one! Not Wattpad!” She ugly-cried ghost tears. “That’s my baby!”
But then—chaos. The feed showed her son Max vanishing in a swirl of evil energy. Turns out, some jerks in the Nexus had accidentally (or maybe intentionally) kidnapped him through a wormhole.
Debbie’s eyes went full Rick Sanchez crazy. “You took my baby? TIME FOR SOME PG-13 VENGEANCE!”
The Rampage
Debbie lost it. She turned temporarily evil, massacring whole family trees of villains. Picture John Wick with mom energy and zero patience. She screamed catchphrases while dual-wielding Judgment Spatulas.
The Moral Squad—a bunch of floating squid-cops with traffic cones for hats—tried to stop her. “Debbie, you’re violating section 666B of the Afterlife Conduct Code!”
“Write me a ticket, squidward!” she screamed, flamethrowering them with PTA complaint energy. “You steal my kid, you get DELETED!”
She finally found Max locked in a glowing cage guarded by a ten-eyed demon accountant named Phil. She shattered the cage and hugged Max. For a second, she looked almost peaceful—until she saw Phil’s nametag.
“You’re Karen’s cousin,” she growled. “Figures.”
The Redemption
Just as she was about to go full Mortal Kombat on Phil, Chloe’s voice echoed from the crystal ball.
“Mom, Max is safe! You don’t have to be evil. Also, can you please stop killing other people’s grandmas?”
Debbie blinked. She looked around at the carnage—smoldering evil corpses, crying squid-cops, Max eating ghost cotton candy. “Okay… maybe I overdid it. Just a smidge.”
She returned to the Nexus court expecting to be punished, but instead Glarblax handed her a glowing sash.
“Congrats. You’re officially Cosmic Momma of Justice. We’ve never had someone so violently good.”
Her catchphrase became legend:
“Love hard, fight harder, and never trust anyone who microwaves fish at work.”
The Epilogue
Final scene: Debbie lounging on a throne made of villain trophies, Max riding a three-headed ghost pony, Chloe visiting through a portal with her best-selling book My Mom’s Afterlife Murder Spree: A Memoir.
A portal opens—Rick and Morty peek in. Rick burps. “Jeez, Morty, even the afterlife’s got helicopter moms now. Burrrp. Wanna go before she grounds us?”
Everyone laughs. Debbie flips them off lovingly.
The screen fades with her saying:
“Eternal judgment? Please. I survived carpool with toddlers.”