Jovial Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse Pt. 1
Those Jovial Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse Pt. 1
The wind blows gently across the dry shale on the plain. Jutting in the distance, the cliffs give a stony definition to the walls of the valley. The predawn sky is clear and beautiful with billowed clouds that are slowly filling with shades of orange, red and purple. Along the valley's floor, among the sparse tumbleweeds and rocks The Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse meet at 6:37am...every Saturday.
"War" sits atop his red horse looking in the direction of the coming dawn, waiting patiently. While he sits, another rider approaches, he is "Pestilence".
"Pestilence" comes along the right side of "War". When his white horse settles he extends, in offering, a box of Good and Plenty candies.
(shaking the 'Good and Plenty' in a happy way)
Good and Plenty?
Wha? No...why, why the fu--why do you do that?
(pouring some candy into his hand)
Why do I do what?
What are you talking about?
The--what you did with the uh...the--dammit!
You do retarded shit, ALL the time...I mean, ALL the time!
Like what? Offer you a tasty candy, don't know why I did that, you know...maybe
being courteous, you know...being NICE possibly? Why are you so
pissy when we meet up, huh? That's uh...that's a better one.
Wife gives me shit EVERY morning.
Ah, yeah, yeah, SEE, see...that's why I didn't marry.
No, no, YOU didn't marry because no woman
wants to marry a man that spreads disease
heh heh...THAT'S why you didn't get married.
Yeah, you keep thinking that and
I'll keep in mind that I'm not a suckered bitch!
You're such a cock.
Hey, hey, heyheyhey, don't get all pissed because--
Their conversation is interrupted as another rider, "Famine" on a black horse, carrying a 'Burger King Big Kids Meal' comes up along side of them.
(greeting the other riders while opening the bag)
(looks at Famine and what he's holding)
(about to put fries in his mouth)
Burger King Kids Meal
(he starts eating)
Well, I hope you brought enough for every body?
(with his mouth full)
Whuf der fuh mmm fuhn fah--
Don't, don't do that please, that's disgusting
you're spitting that shit everywhere.
(finishes chewing and swallows)
Sorry. Bring enough for everybody?!
I'm FAMINE, not "Feed the fucking
Pestilence in sarcastic awe
Alright, alright, let's do this?
(War tightens his grip on the reigns
of his horse as he prepares to ride)
(turning to war)
WHAHOHOA...Who put you in charge of this?
Oh please, stop it, you
know that's not what I meant.
First off, I'm not doing a GODDAMN thing
till I'm finished eating.
Second, we're still short a guy.
(Pestilence looks around the group)
Oh yeah. Where the hell is he?
Haha...yeah, I bet he's drunk again.
(tosses the crumpled bag filled
with trash over his shoulder)
I'll take that bet.
Five on it?
Five? You still owe me five from the LAST time.
Double or nothing?
FINE, I'm probably gonna end up with
less double and more nothing, like LAST time.
Daddies getting money for the disco!
Death arrives on his sickly pale horse
(Greeting the other horsemen)
Haha! PAY UP BITCH!
That doesn't count!
Why are you ALWAYS late?
WE are here at six thirty seven give or take a few seconds,
it's six forty and here you are.
Well, the hung over thing for one...second, I come last.
You know, the order thing. Death comes last.
Yeah, that may be true in the whole thing,
but THIS THING starts at six thirty seven.
Who came up with that anyway, huh?
I don't remember agreeing to that,
HELL, we didn't even vote.
It's more of an unspoken, non-discussed...uh...thing isn't it?
I mean, dawn...six thirty seven is usually dawn, so,
that's the time.
I'm gonna chime in here and say, why dawn anyway?
I mean people are gonna die, suffer, starve et cetera--
does it really matter what time the, uh, the disaster and carnage starts?
It's more the quality if anything.
No one is going care once their limbs are on fire and all the screaming starts.
Look, it's FAR more official when coupled
with a celestial event, i.e. dawn.
You want to make it look good, DAMNIT!
It's a statement to all of mankind that this is the dawn of their demise--
WHY IS THIS ALWAYS BROUGHT UP?!
Hey, calm down there...we're just saying. Could be anytime, is all.
So, when then, huh? What time? When is a good time to end the world, huh? Dinner time?
Maybe, AFTER WE GIVE EVERYONE A BACK RUB AND
A BED TIME STORY! MAYBE then,
THEN WE CAN BRING ABOUT THE HELL FIRE AND RUINATION OF
EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING?
War stares at his counterparts huffing with clenched teeth and fists...waiting for a response.
Silence rules the air.
All the rest
Dawn's fine with me.
Dawn sounds right.
(SIGHS AND SHAKES HIS HEAD)
You sonsahbitches piss me off, you know that.
Well, that probably doesn't take much you being your poorly repressed rage,
high blood pressure and what I'm assuming are some poorly dealt with Mommy issues.
Yeah, sure, okay, but, uh...so you know, afterward, you'd definitely walk away with a
disease. I'll let you pick your poison.
Well, look, it's way to late to do this today isn't it?
We've spent all this time, debating and such...
so, uh...so, how about same time...next Saturday?
Wait. What? No, no, no dammit. We're doing this today! TODAY!
Hey, hey, hey, wait a minute. Wasn't it you who said this should coincide with a celestial
event of some sort?--
Well, yes, but--
And wasn't it you who vehemently argued against doing it at another time?
No, well, yeah, but,--
The sun has risen, dawn is done. If we do this now, it'll just be...not as special. All the people,
burning and writhing in agony will think, "Hm, I wonder why they didn't start at dawn?".
Then, word will get around, among the burning husks of cities and terrified denizens thereof
that the four horsemen of the apocalypse are a bunch of douche bags who are going their job
in a half-assed manner. Do you want to be the one to ride around the
terrified bloodstained mounds of screaming people, apologizing that we didn't
do it at dawn, due to selfish impatience? I'm not doing it.
No, but, it...it...it's not the--GOD DAMMIT! Dammit, dammit!
So, next Saturday?
Yeah, I just ate anyway, wouldn't want to throw up. Oh, what time next
Saturday? I have a massage scheduled and I really want the happy
Like, Six thirty-seven?
Right. Sounds good.
It's agreed then, next Saturday, six thirty-seven
...we start the end of days.
Assholes. Complete and total assholes.
The riders then disperse back from whence they came to meet again...next week...on Saturday...at six thirty-seven a.m.