Locals Relieved Doom Finally at Hand
Straight talk, from straight faces
Tuesday, May 26, 2015, 16:49 (UTC)
4 March 2012
RADIUMDALE, Idaho -- As the sky darkened and the fickle storm winds continued to blow fiercely between prolonged bouts of eerie calm, locals expressed thanks that the disaster they had long seen coming was finally here.
"Let's do this," said local hardware store owner Dwight Slocomb as he screwed pieces of plywood over the store's windows. "We knew it was coming. We didn't know when, or why, or how, and we still don't, but it's just nice to get this over with."
The sense of unease is nearly universal among not only Radiumdale residents but also Americans in general. Reasons cited by locals included the possible impending 2012 Mayan apocalypse, the growing tension between Iran and Israel and the related climb in gas prices, worries about climate change, general election-year worries, the intentions of local band Tin Pest to bring back ska, and lingering worries about Y2K. Now, with the town's lights flickering inexplicably and all the phone lines cut, locals say they couldn't be happier.
"It was the birds that made me wonder," said housewife Rita Underwood, referring to the massive rain of dead birds that occurred last Monday across the tri-county area. "When the cats all disappeared, I knew this had to be it."
"Thank God," she added as she reached for a Tupperware container filled with bullets. "I couldn't stand waiting any longer."
Downtown was deserted Saturday as a storm front rode in from the west, turning the sky completely red. The few people not already holed up with guns and canned food were at the police station grimly working out an evacuation plan.
"None of us wants to evacuate," said Sheriff Zebulon Quad as he and his deputies pored over a regional map. "We want to stay as close to the disaster as possible. Vampires, time vortexes, the Russians - it doesn't matter. We've just been too wound up for too long. If we have the opportunity to talk with the agent or agents of the coming doom, we will only communicate our desire to watch. We have no intention of trying to stop whatever happens."
"We've really been putting this off for far too long already," he concluded.
At sundown, the town finally lost power as the storm winds gusted again, rising to a keening wail like nothing of this earth. The only light in town was coming from an abandoned lot. There, UnNews found that the light was coming from a hole in the ground, next to which was standing a man, who seemed every bit as upbeat as the other townspeople.
"For ten thousand years I've waited for this," said the man, who identified himself as Jason Loomis, thrift shop dock worker. "Today, my destiny is born."
Immediately following this statement, there was an intensely bright flash of green light, followed by darkness and the sound of drums.
|This article features first-hand journalism by an UnNews correspondent.|