One event followed the other with kaleidoscopic speed...
On August 3rd, 2010, a seventy-three-year-old Palestinian goatherd named Ahmed
Wazir found a strange, rusty object in the bushes, and hit it with his cane. The object,
which turned to be an old, Soviet-made Katyusha rocket, blasted off and exploded
within an Israeli territory ripping off a head of a favorite teddy bear of three-year-old
Abram Moskovskiy, causing the child to cry. The government of Israel could not allow
anybody to upset its citizens so badly, and, as a pure prophylactic measure, burned
two Palestinian villages with napalm. Iran and Syria, fulfilling their secret obligations
under the Damascus Treaty, attacked Israel, and soon the united Muslim army was
entering Tel Aviv, overcoming a fierce resistance. The United States, the biggest
friend of the only Middle Eastern democracy, was governed by a young president who
decided not to interfere for a change. After a brief consideration, Israel deployed ten
of her two hundred and fifty nuclear warheads. As a result, Tehran, Mashhad, and
Tabriz were destroyed, and Syria ceased to exist. A thousand and nine missiles with
bacteriological warheads launched by fanatically brave but, apparently, not particularly
bright Iranian soldiers missed Israel, and blasted almost precisely in the middle of the
Mediterranean, killing everything and turning its waters into a yellowish, poisonous
kissel. A strange disease, the symptoms of which slightly resembled but were much
deadlier than the ones of bubonic plague, started in Greece and Italy, and with an
awful speed began spreading to the North and East of the continent, causing death
and panic. Turkey, Jordan, and Egypt entered the war on the side of Iran. Russia,
which had hoped to maintain neutrality, had to declare total mobilization to protect her
Southern borders. The Jewish lobby reminded the US president who were the real
masters of the country, and the United States declared a war on the anti-Israel
coalition. There had already been 11,534,000 confirmed deaths by that time.
John O'Brien, a proud American and lifelong sanitation truck driver, was sitting in front
of his shabby TV-set, petrified. The gentleman's lower jaw hanged down limply, and
warm all-American Coors was steadily leaking out of a tilted can on his all-American
Levi's jeans. A poor human brain simply was not able to comprehend this information.
A pretty news lady had just declared that the 2010 world series were canceled due to
something in Europe. It was the end of the world.