Homicidal Robot Alligators
The daily grind can be a lot: work, kids, bills to pay. It’s no wonder so many of us are in therapy, on medication, or addicted to drugs. No thank you. I’ve found that the best solution for alleviating the angst of modern life is pretty simple: Realizing that a flying swarm of tiny robotic alligators will eventually lead to the collapse of our society and all of our deaths.
Just yesterday, as I walked in the rain after a long day at the office, a car sped by, soaking me with filthy gutter water. Ready to snap, something dawned on me and I let out a long sigh and smiled: We are all going down, courtesy of these god-forsaken robot alligators.
The mini gators might fly into our noses or ears to inflict unbearable pain or, perhaps, some maniac will design ones that just explode our brains. Either way, it’s going to happen and there’s nothing we can do about it.
I took my wet shoes off and poured myself a nice, cold Miller Lite.
Sure, this all may sound a bit fanciful. But it might not even necessarily be alligators! It could be flying orbs, helicoptering hot dogs, or, chillingly, bees, like in that creepy TV show.
And, hey, maybe it won’t be every human on the planet who dies this way. But, there’s little doubt that if any government or rebel group or even an acne-scarred teen with a bone to pick assumes similar control, it’s only a matter of time until chaos reigns.
And, then, everyone will die.
Imagine Kim Jong-un with a vast army of miniature, flight-aware robotic alligator soldiers. Imagine any New England Patriots fan! Or one of those guys who started a petition to redo the final season of Game of Thrones! Whoosh, we’re totally screwed.
And these bad boys can sneak through any crack or penetrate any surface, ready to kill. The White House. 10 Downing. The apartment of the high school teacher who gave you a D in typing. No one is safe.
Climate change, mass shootings, systemic economic inequality: all amateur hour by comparison. All that matters is a deep, unwavering knowledge that miniature, flying, murderous gators will be deployed against the entire human race at any moment.
One of the great mysteries of life is not knowing when or how you will die. I cannot say for certain when the grim reaper will come for all of us, but the good news is that I can say how. And, boy, is it a load off.