Author's note:

As the title says: the novelization of the entire film of WALL-E with all its robotic characters human. Though I had made some changes in description to fit real effects of humans, and a few ideas of my own thrown in, but it's still all like the original film.

Genre: Sci-Fi / Romance

Note: This is my very first published FanFic, so if you spot any major mistakes or inconsistencies, or if you have any ideas you wanna see in the story or future chapters, let me know so I can edit it (grammer errors i wouldn't be too worried about), and PLEASE don't chew me out over it! I have seen WALL-E over 100 times, but I am still new to writing.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT own the copyrights to WALL-E or PIXAR Studios. This story is not used for profit. So if Andrew Stanton or any person associated with creating the best Disney/Scifi/Romance/animated film ever, is reading this, PLEASE DON'T SUE ME!


Earth. A world long forgotten. A once terrestrial beacon of life now scarred by its former inhabitants and their artificial leavings, now an impurity floating around in space, a ball of garbage so to speak. Such an ironically laughable thought that it's the only known habitable planet in the known universe, if anyone could've seen it now….

However, no one can or ever will again, now that it is by definition: devoid of life. An entire planet with absolute zero population, the former twelve billion inhabitants left their mark, or marks that can be seen from space by new landscapes made entirely of garbage, if it could be seen. Even the air is subsequently thick from pollution and the landmasses are almost unrecognizable. Entire continents covered, reshaped, and transformed into a combination of tundra and desert like wastelands solely by plastic, paper, and metal waste; every city now giant junkyards, buried by mountains or towers of trash if seen from afar.

Here, in the Buy N' Large, or BnL for short, Cleanup Sector NA-001, formerly known as New York City, it is barely what it used to be like by the humans who lived here. "The once mighty iconic buildings of downtown Manhattan now dwarfed or were buried by the even taller copious numbers of towers made entirely of trash cubes, thousands of feet high and stretching on for miles in all directions. The once water filled bays of the Hudson now dried up polluted
valleys by the receded Atlantic. Old buildings and bridges mostly rusted and
eroded away by the etchings of time, nature, and man's impact. Garbage and the
howling volatile winds is the only predominant feature present in the once
recognizable metropolis …but not the only thing in this hellhole."

A faint but clear chirping of music could be heard, like a whisper in the winds of the dead city. In the distance, something moves amongst the heaps of trash, traversing the streets, a single human.

Maybe it isn't so devoid of life…

A lone human male walked around the avenues of trash towers, strolling across the desolate littered streets carrying out his job, or "directive" as it is also called. Sounds of music coming from him, giving off the only sign of life in this place.

He stops near a small, ancient mobile compactor nearby, one of many around the Sector. Wielding a shovel in his heavy-duty gloved hands, he begins scooping a pile after pile of
the land's indefinite filth into the device and activated it. The sound of its obsolete and worn hydraulics grinding as it compresses the garbage into a cube echoing through the streets. Still not silencing the sound of upbeat happy music from the human's musical device, an ancient cassette player, eroded and abused with slight static, but playable. The compactor opens and spits out a one by one meter cube of junk, weighing roughly fifty kilos. The human then
picks it up with practiced ease and carries it behind his back. Another life form, a mutt canine, follows right behind him.

After some considerable climbing and carrying up a height of trash, the human finally stacks the cube along with others on the top of the trash tower. The human paused for a moment, leaning against the cubes trying to catch his breath from such labor. He wore a very old, ratty, and dirty coverall jumpsuit, its bright yellow cloth now coated with stains of dirt, dust, grime, sweat, oil, grease, and god-knew-what other impurities he was covered in. His name, Wally, barely readable on the similarly worn red patch explicitly roughly stitched on his left breast side, its letters BNL all but faded. He stood five foot and seven inches, and looked in his late
twenties to early thirties. His exposed areas of skin had a sun-bleached shade of light brown from the dust and unforgiving sun, his dark brown hair an unruly mess akin to a dust mop.

He looks back up to the cubes in front of him. "Oh!" something caught his attention, a shimmering object from one of the cubes.

He grabs it, it doesn't budge, and he tries harder, grunting for more strength, still nothing; and now yanking on it with his feet on the cubes, pulling with all his might. Finally the shinny object breaks free with a sudden force that Wally falls flat on his back, but safely not over the edge. He sits up; simply starring at the object he pried free, just a circular aluminum trash lit.

Huh? He wondered how something so… simple would make him work himself to
just know what it was. Such curiosity he had.

He looks up at the falling sunset just above the horizon; his protective UV goggles shielding his unseen eyes from the harsh rays, even at this time of day. It'll be dark soon; he gets up and prepares to leave. Still clinging onto the lid, he slings it over his back along with a utility bag. He turns off his cassette player which is slung on his belt, dead silence now filling the metropolitan void.

"Hal!" he whistles for his canine companion to come with him, back down the 3000ft trash tower in a spiraling makeshift ramp, slowly making his way smoothly but at unease at the sight of a long way down to the streets below.

Editing by Spring-Heel-Jacquelin, and thank you!