The Final Countdown - Season I

Episode I: Part 6: But What Will We Eat?

"What do you mean, 'we're doomed?'" 

Ronnie's sandwich lay forgotten, its innards slowly oozing out all over the Final Countdown. How anyone could still choke down macaroni loaf and not instantly die of sodium poisoning was a mystery beyond the greatest minds.

"I've been tracking it for a while. Call it a boiling point, the point of no return, our goose is cooked, the fat lady is singing...however you slice it, we're hooped."

Eddie grabbed a pair of pliers from his toolbelt and daintily picked up the sandwich. It shed the wilted lettuce and left behind a mustardy-mayo blob that very closely resembled what a bird might deposit on a windshield.

Bird poo. It looked like bird poo.

"What happened?" 

Ronnie didn't even try to stop him from tossing the sandwich into the trash. Ronnie had been his next door neighbour for years, and not once had the woman ever been so laissez-faire about food. At least someone was willing to listen to him.

"I'm not sure," Eddie said. He pulled out a rag and wiped the thick splotch of mayo from the pliers. "But I think the Earth reached a tipping point."

"What, like global warming?" Ronnie wasn't the recycling, organic, bike-to-work type. 

"No, that's a whole other issue." If it wasn't so horrifying, he would have found his theory funny. "It's rage."

"Rage."

"Yeah. Full-on rage. We all hate each other so much, that we've made rage contagious. We all hate each other, the monkeys hate us, the cows hate the monkeys, the planarian worms loathe the vultures, and bacteria hate everything. All that rage has pissed off the planet."

He watched Ronnie's face change as he explained this absurd, awful situation.

"Baloney."

"I wish it was." He opened up his 'World's End' app and showed it to her. "We have eleven hours left. Things are going to get worse and worse. When midnight hits, the world is literally going to explode."

Ronnie's head looked like it might explode.

"What are we going to do?"