Friday, November 30, 2007

THE WORLD WILL END SUNDAY AT 1:12 AM EST

As you might guess, nuclear weapons will wipe us off the face of the earth Sunday morning, but how?

This weekend, after the Mideast peace conference in Annapolis, Israelis and Palestinian leaders returned home, had a good laugh, and then went back to war. Nothing special— just the usual shelling and bulldozerings.

However, a strange wind is blowing across the collective American cultural conscience, as the election season has not only proven to be bad politics, but also bad TV, and that’s one thing Americans will not stand for. Thirsting for a change, action, and new characters, America searches for a new leader to entertain them.

From the fog of the Boston Harbor, a new American hero emerges—America’s first official Charactician. Combining the eminent zeal and charisma of Ron Paul and Ross Perot with the drunken retard strength of the Incredible Hulk and Lenny from of “Mice and Men,” Timothy Elliot will not just storm the political field, he’ll over throw the federal government by Friday night when the New England Lottery Commission tells him he can not collect the $1 million he won on a scratch off ticket because he’s on probation.

Timothy will summon the same superhuman powers that allowed him to rob a bank with his bare hands, and kill at the rate of 3,000 bureaucrats an hour. His hatred for an overbearing, over-regulating, over-taxing federal government, combined with a genetic mental defect, and his homey, Davy Crockett looks will resonate with Libertarians hungry for a change and a third party candidate. (Okay, maybe he looks more like Davy Crockett with post traumatic stress disorder that has driven him to drink everything from mouthwash to horse liniment. What do you expect, he saw some crazy shit at the Alamo—remember?)

For the rest of the day, Timothy continues his murderous spree of handmade and homespun manslaughter—the old fashioned way, without all these modern gizmos— he cracks skulls with good old fashioned elbow grease, thrusts and rubs knuckles through brains, and shatters ribs while stabbing hearts with splintering bones. You either help Timothy kill, or you get killed by Timothy.

Then just when the remaining Americans had sold out their friends and families, trading their loved ones’ lives to parlay favor with Timothy; Timothy turned and killed them too, because they were a bunch of soulless sellouts.

Back in Europe, the youth riots in France are spreading across Southern Europe, as tight jeans and hip sneakers anxtfully march to Rome, sharing downloadable mobile phone applications and stories of stupid adults ruining the world. As they sweep across Italy they rise up against the Vatican.

Upon attack, the cowardly Cardinals try to hide and blend in with
the youth, but they stick out like the maid’s car, cause they are cloaked in gold robes with titanium snaps on the side so they can disrobe on a second’s notice, like a point guard rushing in for a last minute molestation. Platinum wingtips may be fancy and let people know God loves you more, but they don’t give much traction to run away from an angry mob of teens who blame you for molesting their dad. Perhaps the Pope got the worst of it. After killing him, they used CPR to bring him back to life, just to kill him again. Don’t be so disturbed, he kind of appreciated the Christ-like aspect of it.

By now all of Europe is covered by teenagers rioting, who have killed all the old people and children, cause they’re not cool. So by midday Saturday, the only people alive in Europe are teenagers, and you know teenagers—that night they all got drunk and died in a car wreck. They thought they could beat the train. All 12 million of them. Teens. Everybody’s roommate would have gotten a 4.0, but everybody’s roommate was dead and European, and they might not do that there.

At the same time, in Asia, the Monkey Wars are escalating, as the exploding monkey population in South East Asia continues to clash with society’s gut protruding over the city limits. Most people have ignored the threat of the Monkey Wars in Asia cause it was so damn cute, and the monkeys only hit women at first. Fox even broadcast most of it, but by midseason (Saturday morning), all of Asia was over run with Monkeys, which are a lot like white trash, except they don’t have Camaros you can impound so it’s hard to punish them.

Once the Monkeys moved into the cities, they realized that people were in their way, taking up space, so they just started killing every person they saw. It didn’t take long—by Saturday evening they had killed everybody, mostly by ripping limbs off and beating their bloody chest-body and head with their own arms. Monkeys aren’t that smart, but they do get a kick out of shit like that.

Meanwhile, in a surprising twist, the old British ladies who had been vacationing in Africa just to throw hip and cash at young African men to fulfill their lingering, Victorian age fantasy of being ravaged by the savage help, end up giving the African male prostidudes STDs. Turns out, the only disease Africans haven’t been exposed to is the old fashioned Pirate Clap which white people have grown immune to after so many buccaneers worked their way into our gene pool. Quicker than small pox and more frightful than the plague, the Pirate Clap spreads across Africa like a flash fire in a rural meth lab run by amateur amphetamine enthusiasts, killing everyone in Africa by Friday night.

Across the Atlantic, no one is aware that everyone in Africa is dead, because no one cares. Don’t act surprised, it’s been that way for years. However, South America sees the Catholic Church fall and returns to their pre-Spaniard cultures which thrive for two agriculture and astronomy filled days. They even build several new pyramids on Saturday. The secret was never slave labor, it was coca. You’d be surprised what 400 years of repressed culture mixed with a nation wide harvest of cocaine can get done in one afternoon.

Unfortunately, they got a bit carried away, which is understandable given the circumstance, but they got ahead of themselves and finished the final temple honoring Hugo Chavez’s sweater collection, about four years in advance—it was a really good harvest.

Long story short, they got so coked up, they skipped four years on the Mayan calendar and by 11 PM Saturday night, it is actually December 21, 2012. I know it seems impossible, but they do math differently. The Aztecs invented the concept of zero, you know— which actually seems to have brought a real sense of pessimism to mathematics, now that I think about it.

Anyway, as we all know, according to the ancient Mayan calendar, the world ends on December 21, 2012, and we all know that has to be true because it’s really old, so right as the last brick is laid on the temple, the new leader of the Pakistani army Mervez Pusharraf, who is actually just Pervez Musharraf wearing a fake mustache, which seems a particularly flagrant considering he already has a mustache, nukes the monkeys.

Mervez knows the impact of nuking the monkeys will kill him too, but come on, how often do you get a chance to nuke a monkey army? So he goes for it. Since he’s blowing a quarter of the earth to dust, he figures, he might as well nuke the opposite side too, to make it symmetrical, and leave a sort of apple core shaped earth like in the cartoons.

Meanwhile back in America, Timmy Crocket (the two legends have merged by now, Timmy also wrote the Birthday song and used to baby sit for Hitler according to the new history pamphlets). So Timmy Crocket, King of the New American Frontier hears the nuke coming towards America, so he jumps westward and meets the missile in mid air over California. At first he intended to fight the missile and kill it good, but after spending some time with the missile hurling over the earth, Timmy came to grow fond of it and its destructive ambitions, so together they rocketed into Earth’s atmosphere at 1:12 AM Sunday morning, and blew the Earth into an apple core, killing everyone.

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