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 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.
End of the world (books):
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