((WARNING: Parts of this may seem off-kilter, or not make any sense whatsoever. Just so you know.))
And, here it is, in all it's funny potential, the Prophet of Doom.
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The Prophet of Doom
“Hmm…”
“What’s up?”
“Nuthin, I’m just trying to think of what to write next.”
“Really. Mind telling me what you happen to be writing?”
“Mmm… Some sort of story, I guess.”
“About what?”
“… World War Three, I think.”
“… World War Three?”
“Yup.”
“There hasn’t been a World War Three yet.”
“My point exactly.”
“Huh?”
“I’m hoping to be a new-age prophet of doom.”
“… Really.”
“Yeah, really! I just figured, hey, there are tons of crazy people who predicted all sortsa things – like that one dude, whatshisface, he predicted the rise of Hitler!”
“… I have no clue who you’re talking about.”
“And that other dude, that one who... er, I forget, but my point is, there are tons of ‘prophets’ mentioned throughout history!”
“And you can’t remember any of their names, can you?”
“Erm, well…”
“Go on.”
“There was, uh, lesse, uh… Joan of Arc?”
“… The Saint? The one who heard voices telling her about the French Revolution?”
“Yeah!”
“I’m not sure those were prophecies, per say.”
“… Uh… How did we get on this subject again?”
“You said something about World War Three.”
“Oh, yeah! I remember now!”
“For once.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing, nothing. Please continue,”
“Right. Well, I figure if I write this like I mean it – like I’ve, like, seen it in a vision, right? – people might actually believe it!”
“… You can’t be serious.”
“Yes I am!”
“Why would you play off of humanity’s various fears and paranoia like that?”
“… I dunno. It just seemed like fun.”
“Alright, maybe it is, but you’re writing it as a fiction novel, right?”
“Right.”
“Then why would people believe it?”
“Um…”
“Give me one good example of a fiction novel people took seriously.”
“… Is this a trick question?”
“… No, but it was probably a stupid one.”
“Right.”
“So… To rephrase that, what fiction work could possibly compete with the Prophets?”
“Well… there is Cullenism.”
“… Cullen… ism?”
“Yup.”
“Please tell me it isn’t what I think it is.”
“Yup, yup, yup! It’s a religion dedicated to Twilight.”
“… Shoot me now.”
“So, you see? My WWIII prophecy doesn’t sound so farfetched, now does it?”
“N-no, I suppose not. Now, gimmie a picket sign. I’ll be standing in Times Square declaring the imminent doom of humanity.”
“… Wow.”
“And try and find me one of those leather jackets – like Sarah Palin wears.”
“Alright, who are you and what have you done with my friend?!?”
“And you thought that you were crazy.”
“I did?”
“That… Cullenism… thing just pushed me over to the edge. I… realize, now, that life is not played out on the physical plain… We live on the digital ones!”
“Where did that come from? And when did you get your brains scrambled?”
“About a minute ago, actually.”
“Hey – hey! Where are you going? Now – wait, take off the jacket… Turn away from the abyss! You can still do it!”
“No! I… I believe in Edward!”
“You… are lost to me. I’m going now to write my sensible, reasonable, prophecy of doom.”
“Goodbye… Infidel.”
“… Prophet, if you don’t mind.”
“Of Alice?”
“Of World War Three!”
“Oh. Then, goodbye, World War Three infidel.”
“Argh! Tell me when the aliens de-scramble your brains, alright?”
“Alright! I’m off to Times Square!”
“Bye. … Urgh. Some people these days… I mean, honestly, Cullenism? And Leather jackets? Sarah Palin? Twilight, I’ll give them… infidel indeed, World War Three, M*A*S*H, Alan Alda, J.K Rowling, J.R.R Tolkin, Republican, democrat... Humph!"
