Here is a short story I wrote that may come off a bit weird, but it is meant to be a bit confusing, it's done in a very avant-garde style that shadows the sixties style of drug-infused storytelling.
A television's volume went supersonic as the newscaster could be heard over bellowing rumbles. "Reports are coming in from all over the city; hundreds are dead, thousands injured, and the number is still going up! The devastation is of biblical proportions! The towering inferno of Babel is falling atop our heads! Scenes of carnage and destruction are everywhere! It looks bleak, Tom! Say your prayers! This is it!"
A panning shot goes back to a dispelled office, quaking with hellfire behind the blue screen.
"That was field reporter Thaddeus Yolk with what's happening in your neck of the woods. When we come back from this word from our sponsors, the end of the world, as we know it, or so it appears. Thank your for tuning into AXT news, and go fuck yourselves."
The static white noise of the Big Bang residue emitted from the rabbit ear set, and the faulty logic of the utter chaos and destruction of no reason other than it was Spring cleaning for the universe was all that kept Jethro Thatcher, or JT by his known associates, from making any headway to get out of bed. It was the year 800,000 A.C.D, or After Charles Darwin. The world was all about regurgitating itself, as humankind had reached it's peak right around the time Apple Computers became self-aware, and iPods went around killing people, while Fergie blasted from ear buds around the world. Only the deaf, and inherently imbecile were safe from the clutches of the MP3 revolution. Don't even get me started about the watches....anyhow, JT rolled out of bed, and looked out at the destruction caused by what many perceived to be the fall of capitalism, but really it was because an angst-ridden God wanted to start over and make amoebas the reigning species on Earth.
We are all God's children every other weekend, or whenever the dick feels like coming around, most of the time we just live with mom, and she tries her best not to immaculate him in front of us, but fails. JT knew this when he bought a weekend pass to the fifth dimension, and saw god with the pot pipe he had from college, and this did not bode well for the custody battle for Earth.
Sure, he knew that Mom was all in to take full-custody, so her gay hand aid, Georgie would watch over him for the rest of eternity, as she was always at work trying to make sure the four seasons didn't get all messed up from satellite infringement.
In the Richard Dawkins Hall, JT would go to pay homage and meditate to the great nothing that brought the universe into existence, like a good atheist was supposed to, and that made him feel a tad better than when he first went in. God read most of Richard Dawkins work, but seemed to have a very subjective dislike for the work, saying it was too "wordy" and lacked "substance."
What the fuck was going on? The toaster read five o'clock, as did the microwave, the oven, the television, JT's left shoe, and about every other electric and analog device in the vicinity. They were all off by thirty seconds, which really is a fucking bitch if you've ever had to deal with such nonsense. JT headed off to court for the eightieth time that year, as most court dates were long, and far and few in-between. Still, JT wanted to stay with his mother,meh felt god was always trying to undermine his intelligence, and he really had a lot to say about why the hell the platypus looked lime a beaver that made sweet love to a mutated lizard-duck monster.
God was not really a fan of the platypus either, but needed a creature to be thrown in so people would find Australia interesting. The judge was Judge Judy, and her verdict seemed to come down hard on god, saying he was a negligent parent, for letting his other son, JC be nailed to a cross, and would have to pay the mother in goats, until JT was 21.
A smartphone goes off every single second; that's 3,600 times an hour, and out of that 3,600 times, more than half say "k". A phone set to vibrate will always have a returning answer of "ok", this is the only plan that god ever put into place, so the Methodist never felt left out, and also because even a be rolls to being that has his children killed for your sins, has to have a sense of humor. Even John Wayne Gacy liked dressing up as a clown.
So JT stayed with his mother, and became a devout atheist, and worshipped the sun, because it was what all the other hipsters were doing, and right after he could grow a mustache, and buy a top hat, he became a hipster overnight. Hipsters then had to tell him they worshipped the sun as a sense of irony, as it was a massive gas giant celestial body that couldn't sustain the intelligent consciousness to interpret worship. It was just a dense ball of molten lava, and despite what solar-rights activist told you, molten lava balls don't have feeling.
God decided to fall back on his original career, and be a motivational speaker for ENRON, which emerged because everyone was too big to fail, apparently bailouts were being handed out for Westinghouse and Radio Shack as well. God's plan never contained anyone with a pure soul to ever shop at Radio Shack...ever!
Did you know dolphins gang rape as a form of social interaction,and it's even acceptable for them to rape siblings and kin? Doesn't that scream reality show? Also, dolphins have been known to rape themselves, take that Fox and CNN!
Still, JT decided to grow a mustache, and join the Peace Corp....he was killed by a care package filled with Kraft Mac and Cheese.
God went on to host Saturday Night Live, the musical guest was Sinead O'Connor. The Pope preached that he was a corporate pig, and excommunicated god from the Catholic Church.
Then everyone settled their differences over a pint of Rocky Road ice cream, and committed ritual suicide, because the Cubs won the World Series, which ushered in the Age of Satan.
The End. Seriously, The End. You don't like it? Neither did Richard Dawkins, who molested a moose after discovering he had the ability to make Canadiens uneasy about moose sex, which was a bigger sport than curling prior.
Now it's over! The End
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