Damien held the small potted barrel cactus in his hands, examining it, debating whether he could be trusted to take care of something so cute. He had always wanted a garden, but his inability to keep plants alive longer than a week thwarted his dream of being on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens. This cactus would be different. It was a desert plant that required minimal fussing over. The instructions on the pot said it needed water once or twice a month. Surely, even he could do that.

He smiled as he made his mind up to buy the cactus. “I’m going to take such good care of you!” he cooed.

“Don’t believe him; he’s going to kill you,” Greg said, joining Damien in the garden section of Walmart. He laughed at Damien’s shocked expression as the cactus pricked him from trying to cover its nonexistent ears.

“Don’t say that, Greg! Plants can hear you, and they have feelings!” Damien set the cactus back on the shelf so he could remove the spines from his fingers. “The last thing I need is for it to come down with anxiety because you scared it to death. Don’t be a dick.”

The two used self-checkout to purchase their items and then went home. Damien’s thoughts were on what names to give his little barrel cactus of love. As he set it on the kitchen counter, he decided to name it Lawrence. It was a good name for a cactus. Greg disagreed, but he supposed it was better than ‘Spike.’

Not knowing the last time Lawrence was watered, Damien gave him a small cupful of water. He watched as the droplets stuck to the tips of the little needles. This filled him with childlike glee. It reminded him of gardening in grade school, just before the meteor destroyed everything.

Damien was knocked out of his memory when Bertram barked behind him. He turned to see the loving chupacabra wagging his tail wildly. He didn’t notice this was not Bert’s usual unflappable excited wag. He just reached down and patted Bert on the head. “What’s up, boy?”

“He needs to go potty!” Greg shouted from the living room. “Let him outside.”

Damien opened the patio door to let Bert do his business, but Bert didn’t even look outside. His gaze was fixed on the cactus. At first, Damien thought it was because Bert had never seen a cactus before, but he knew something was not right with it when the growling started.

Without a second thought, Damien snatched the potted cactus and threw it outside. He didn’t even wait to hear the sound of the ceramic pot shattering before he shut the door and forgot all about Lawrence. Bert was much happier.

The next morning, it was Damien’s turn to take Bert outside to do his business. In the initial months of having Bert, Damien balked at this task, but recently it seemed Bert preferred his company to Greg’s. So this was an excellent way to further their bond. It also was a fun way to make Greg jealous of their relationship.

Damien and Bert approached the patio door when they both sensed something was not right. Bert’s barks sounded more panicked than angry. Damien carefully opened the door and stepped outside. Bert had his back. They both jumped back in surprise when they saw the entire backyard was covered in tiny potted barrel cacti. Bert’s barks became more frantic the longer they stood outside.

“It’s okay, boy,” Damien said, ushering the distraught chupa back inside. He turned back to the sea of cacti and placed his hands on his hips. How could so many have grown overnight from one little cactus? He sighed as he resigned himself to the thought that only he would pick the one demonic plant in Walmart. Now how was he going to get rid of it?

“Damien! Bert just pissed on the floor! What the hell happened?” Greg marched out onto the patio yelling but stopped when he saw what had become of their spacious yard. “The fuck?”

“I don’t know what happened! Bert didn’t like Lawrence, so I threw him outside. And now…” Damien pointed at the yard, knowing full well he didn’t need to. He turned to Greg with a panicked expression, truly begging for help. “I don’t know what to do. I mean, I’ve always wanted a cactus garden, but what if they’re evil cactuses, Greg? What if they all hate me because I tossed Lawrence aside like so much rubbish? What if they’re zombie cactuses?”

Greg scoffed at the idea of zombie cacti but then reminded himself that stranger things have happened. He didn’t know what kind of cacti they were, but he was sure they weren’t evil, or at least he hoped not, for Damien’s sake. “It’s going to be okay,” was all he could muster. “Let’s just leave them out there and see what comes.”

Damien snorted. “What comes?”

Greg shrugged and said, “If milkshakes bring boys, what do cacti bring?” With that, he spun around on his toes and entered the house.

Damien gave one last look at the yard before he followed him. He didn’t give the garden another thought for the rest of the day.

Everyone had been asleep for hours when Damien suddenly felt something on his chest. For a brief moment, he was afraid that Greg’s possessed stuffed dog had come back, but then replaced it with the idea Bert had wanted cuddles. The weight was too light for Bert. He reluctantly opened his eyes and saw a cute potted cactus sitting on his chest. At first, he went, “Awww,” but then he saw the others lined up at the foot of the bed.

“Uhh, Greg?” He shook his boyfriend awake to witness the phenomena. “Are you seeing this?” Greg mumbled something about not getting the needles on the bed before he fell back asleep. “Ugh, you suck.”

As Damien got out of bed, he noticed cacti had taken over the entire bedroom.. Every flat surface had a cactus on it. This is ridiculous, he thought as he carefully stepped on the floor. It was then he noticed Bert was not sleeping next to the bed as usual. Where was he?

“Bertram?” he called out. He heard a pitiful bark come from downstairs. Damien cautiously made his way to the kitchen, avoiding every cactus on the floor.

It wasn’t just the bedroom that had been seized, but every room, every open space in the entire apartment. Why was this happening? He supposed he should have known the backyard was just the first step in the invasion.

When he reached the kitchen, he saw Bert was trapped in a corner by the fridge, guarded by a legion of cacti. The poor thing cowered as he gazed up at his daddy, pleading for help.

“Come here, Bert,” Damien said, clapping his thighs. Bert whimpered as he glanced down at the plants, afraid to make a move. Realizing Bert was paralyzed with fear, Damien created a path by gently shoving some cacti aside with his bare foot. Bert gleefully ran to him and licked his hands, grateful to be free.

“This is ridiculous, Bert. We have to take our house back.” But how could they? He thought about how he had seen people in movies stop invasions. A random scene from a Harry Potter movie he saw came to him. Harry was in a pile of gold somethings that kept replicating. Damien couldn’t remember what the point of that scene was, but the idea of finding the original came to him. “Maybe if we find Lawrence, the real Lawrence, we can end this.” He looked Bert in his glassy brown eyes and asked, “Will you help me? Will you help Daddy find Lawrence?” Bert barked as he accepted the mission.

The two heroes went into the patio and stared at the garden of cacti. He didn’t see where the discarded plant had landed, so any of them could be the OG Lawrence. When he thought about it, he reasoned it couldn’t be too far from the door. That’s where he started the search.

Bert approached each cactus and gave it a cautious sniff. If it wasn’t the one he wanted, he moved on. He had eliminated many of the plants by the door, but there was one by the fence he hadn’t sniffed yet. He barked when he felt his skin prickle.

“That’s it!” Damien picked it up and rubbed the dirt off the ceramic pot. It wasn’t cracked at all. He examined it closely to ensure it was Lawrence. He patted it gently and instinctively knew this was the one. “I’m sorry, Lawrence. I promised I would take care of you, but then I reneged on that promise. If you’ll take me back, I promise I will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Do we have a deal?”

Damien and Bert stared at the plant, looking for a sign it understood the proposition. No one moved or uttered a sound for a good two minutes before a soft pop startled them out of their stare. They looked around and found all of the replicant cacti had disappeared. Bert barked with excitement that Damien’s plea had been heard. Damien shushed him as they went back inside.

The door opened slightly, careful not to disturb any cacti that might still be present, but there were none. Sighs of relief were had by both chupacabra and human alike.

Damien gave Lawrence a few more ounces of water before placing him in a prominent spot on the coffee table. Bert gave the cactus a withering stare before he followed Damien to bed.

With all of the replicants gone, Damien and Bert crawled into bed, safe and snug, and, most of all, needle-free.