Yeah, I wrote another one for this competition. I don’t know why – the idea just kind of came to me. It’s a bit of a departure from what I usually do. Who knew I actually had the capacity to try (and I do mean try) to be funny? I had to try and tone the language down otherwise I’d be off the competition wall I suspect.
Anyway, here it is. Dismiss at your leisure…
The End of the World Half Time Show
‘Armageddon Live is brought to you in association with Nokia, Intel and Seat motors.’
She passes me a bag of stale pretzels. I put it down next to a bowl of Angel Delight topped with silver hundreds and thousands. We’ve just finished the cheap bottle of wine my brother brought over at Christmas four years ago and we’re about to start on the cooking sherry.
‘Is that everything?’
‘Pretty much. There’s a tin of Scooby Doo spaghetti left and a plastic tub of mixed herbs.’
‘Will they go together?’
I’m determined to clear the cupboards. I paid for this shit and I’m not about to sit here and watch it be consumed in the same fireball that rips my eyes from my skull.
On the TV, the Black Eyed Peas are ploughing through an out of tune medley of their greatest hits. I hate the Black Eyed Peas, but apparently they represent the pinnacle of our civilisation. The southern hemisphere is likely to wink out of existence to the sound of Fergie wailing about her lady bumps. Strangely, nobody else seems depressed by this.
‘Do you want to go and have sex again?’
‘I can’t be bothered to be honest. I feel a bit nauseous.’
That’s the curried tuna talking.
I don’t have the motivation either. I pop another wasabi peanut into my mouth instead. It makes my eyes water. This is the crappiest New Year’s Eve I’ve ever spent. Actually, no, that’s a lie. One year I went to a Steampunk party dressed as a teenage mutant ninja turtle. How was I supposed to know?
The ‘Peas end with a rousing yell of Mazel Tov. We get a close up of the reddening sky as Justin Beiber tells us there are twenty three minutes to go. He sounds quite glib about it, but then he would wouldn’t he? To be honest, we’ve all had time to adjust. It’s been three months since the comet Elst-Pizarro was knocked out of its orbit. Three months in which to accept our impending doom. And in all that time, with the breadth of human knowledge at our disposal, this lame concert was the best idea anyone could come up with on how to spend the final few hours.
Elton John is up next. Of course he is, he gets bloody everywhere. We all know what he’s going to sing – he rewrote Candle in the Wind again. In this version he bids goodbye to humankind. Genius. It’s available to download from iTunes, or at least will be for just over quarter of an hour. I’ve bought it twice today already. In times of panic, impulse buying is the only thing I know how to do.
Why the hell not?