The world, as we’d known it, ended. I’ll not tell you how. It was horrible. That’s all you need to know.
Theres not that many of us left. I’ll not tell you how many. I mean, how the heck should I know? But we’re all hungry. But not that hungry, if you know what I mean.
There’s a king in England. Or so they say. News isn’t the most reliable thing. They say it’s Harry. And that his mom and dad and his brother, Willam is dead. And his wife too, thankfully.
But above him, Trump’s Emperor Elect over everybody. The whole world. Or what’s left of it. The elect part’s a laugh, but no-one finds it funny anymore. Not since he went bonkers. More bonkers.
He passed a law. Marriages were made illegal. Don’t ask me why. Maybe it was something Empress Melania said. He always was a bit tetchy. A bit sensitive.
So – the new law. Here’s how he put it: kill one, it doesn’t much matter which, or both’ll be killed.
And he’s fierce in the way he holds to it. He has all these stormtroopers you see. Bloodthirsty buggers one – all of ’em. And he set an example too. Live on TV. Who’d have though that a skinny thing like Melania would have had so much blood in her.
I loved my wife. Even after all she did and said to me over the years – and it was plenty. But I love life more. Wife or life – there wasn’t a choice really.
Pity she got to me first. She says that the poison she put in my soup – that one bowlful I was going eat before I slit her throat – will kill me in another couple’a minutes.
She told me she’s going to bury me under a tree at dawn. She even showed me which one. Says she’s going to do it after she’s uploaded proof of the kill to Trump. She’ll keep the heart for DNA too. Proof’s important she says. Prevents misunderstandings.
She says that it’ll be a beautiful sunrise. And she figures that there’ll be a crescent moon too.
Well ain’t that freakin’ fantastic.
This story was kindly prompted by Sue Vincent.