Humans

They were talking about global warming on the news again. The last segment was about a hurricane. Little Billy flipped the channel only to find a documentary on obesity. Turning to the newspaper he found headlines of natural disasters, murders, suicides and general portents of doom. Even the Internet didn’t have any words of comfort. The message was clear: the end is coming. He must prepare for the worst.

And so it was on a rather mundane Thursday that Little Billy contacted the local human trafficking agency and placed an order for a portly Asian man of non-specific nationality. The agency in question prided itself of prompt service, the result of which being that Little Billy found himself with a new neighbour a few hours later.

The Asian gentlemen was perhaps the most confused. He’d answered an advert in the local newspaper (of his country) for a position as a foot model. Strangers had often stared at his toes which he took to mean something praiseworthy; it had never occurred to him that flip-flops were hardly considered suitable attire for accountants in large corporations. Nevertheless, he appeared for the photo shoot promptly and was conked on the head with a large frying pan and shipped to a foreign land. He awoke bound and gagged in the living room of an old house. The would-be modelling agents towered over him and instructed him – on pain of death – to eat well, forget about exercising, never leave the house and never open the curtains, all of which the plump man was most willing to do. The kitchen was exceptionally well stocked after all.

Armageddon arrived not long after. And as Little Billy predicted chaos ensued. Riding his tricycle through the city, Little Billy observed people running through the streets killing everything in sight, and nuclear explosions in the distance signalled the beginning of the demise of the human race. As the days wore on, the stench of death filled the air. The dead bodies of all living things – humans, plants and animals – littered the streets. Before long, nuclear winter had consumed the planet and threatened to last a millennium. All was doomed.

The doorbell rang and the now substantially portlier Asian man waddled to answer it. He’d never had a visitor and was rather anxious to find out what all the ruckus outside was about. Also, Winter seemed to be carrying on much longer than usual and like all people, he desperately had the urge to say to another person: “Cold isn’t it?”. He opened the door as widely and as welcomingly as he possibly could and stared out at the remains of a fallen planet. Before even registering the devastation that lay before him, Little Billy jabbed the portly gentleman in his sizeable belly with a stun gun and turned the setting to high.

It was difficult getting a good fire stared but Little Billy managed it after a few tries. The portly man woke to find himself once again bound and gagged, this time to a large metal pole. Little Billy hadn’t bothered shaving the man; the fire would remove the hair anyway. Skipping to the kitchen, Little Billy returned with a bowl of marinade after adding some potato chips to the pan on the stove. He gently lowered the pole over the fire, slowly and steadily rotating it to allow for even cooking. It was his very last meal at the end of the world, and he planned to savour it.