Texas. July 2015.
The world is ending. The date is set. And this time it happens on Wednesday.
It’s funny. People hate things like the IRS, but love things like the end of the world.
I admit it’s exciting. It has zest. And it’s the period at the end of humanity’s long sentence.
It’s big business too.
To survive you’ll need something. You might not know what that something is, but somewhere someone does and believe me, they buy in bulk.
Gold or silver? Dehydrated food? Water to rehydrate your dehydrated food? A generator? Hey, with a generator, you can get on the internet. Since it’s the Apocalypse, you’ll have the information superhighway all to yourself.
I say ride out the end of the world in a bathtub. If it works for tornados why not the Apocalypse? Hell, make it a special day. Make it a bubble bath.
And if you plan to divest yourself of any stocks, bonds, or other assets, I’ll provide you with my mailing address. Consider it a love offering. Plenty of deities smile on that kind of thing you know?
And every time I spend your dough, I’ll say a little prayer for you.
Now you can do that or you can keep your junk and not worry at all because if the world should end, none of us will likely see it coming. The universe has a sense of humor like that.
Did the dinosaurs see it coming? Nope. The dinosaurs sat around a grill, barbecuing our mammalian ancestors when their world ended.
The asteroid that hit Earth was in reality, a massive mothership piloted by a species of inebriated space mice who flunked out of twelve-step program.
©Kent Gutschke 2015.
MARTIAN DEATH RAY 