What A Marvellous Event
It was a usual, British December. Drizzling, a bit cold, not a hint of snow, and a lot of dull, grey clouds. Standing around outside of London’s London Eye were a rather large and rowdy crowd. What they were there for could've been anyone's guess. It was a bit late for them to have been there for the turning on of the Christmas lights. Neither could they be there to watch them get turned off, it was too early for that. Not that people turn up to watch the lights get turned off, mind, however it nevertheless is still a perfectly valid event that many seem not to make the best of.
A man with an oversized microphone, some might speculate compensating for something or other, emerged at the head of the crowd. "Are you ready, London?!” he announced.
The crowds roared with great cheer and celebration, which the announcer responded to with what can only be described as a spasm of some kind, followed by a little jump, and an attack on an invisible foe. He had obviously, like the crowd, taken up the offer of unlimited cheap vodka available at the venue.
There was a great laughter as someone in the crowd called out, "What's white all over and splattered with red?!" An inside-joke, it can be assumed.
“It's almost time!" called the announcer. The crowds came to a temporary silence. "Let the countdown..." he paused and grinned. "Begin!”
A large, blue number appeared on a building behind the Eye. The following eruption of noise from the crowd was deafening, a few genuinely went deaf.
“10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1!”
A silence fell over the crowd. Expectance and excitement was in the air. It was going to be a marvellous event.
The announcer looked up to the skies, his face stretched into a wide grin, and a large woman in the front row farted. A few seconds passed. His expression dropped. The crowd was starting to murmur. He picked his microphone up.
“Something seems to have gone a little wrong...” he said.
The crowd started to boo and hiss.
“What?! It’s hardly my fault if I don’t have control over the universe, is it?!”
The crowd was silent for a moment, seemingly considering the question. It then booed some more and the announcer narrowly avoided a glass bottle thrown at his head. The announcer’s expression became crestfallen, and he fell to the floor (whether from the drinking or the disappointment is a matter of speculation). The margins of the crowd started to slip away.
The announcer felt something drop onto his nose. He looked up.
“Wait!” he shouted down the microphone. “Something’s happening!”
Indeed, something was happening. A swarm of small, bright objects were falling out of the sky and colliding with the crowds below. Screams of excitement permeated the air once more.
And so it came to pass, that just as had been forecast, London had snow at Christmas at last... and the impossibility of the event caused the very fabric of space-time to be ripped asunder, swallowing the Earth whole, as had been predicted by the Maya in times long past.
The 21st of December, 2012. What a lovely apocalypse.
Notes: Was written based on the LM prompt, and no, I totally didn't post this and then fly into utter negativity and completely take it down for a short time... (Direct all complaints for its re-emergence on Bazz ).