My immediate response is to reproduce the link you see clogging your bandwidth in some realistic manner. Were I a better artist, perchance this course of action would be viable. Fiction, on the other hand, is something I may be able to grasp but is painful. I have so much mental baggage when dealing with fiction that even 200 words seem daunting. I am no fiction writer; nor a poet-on-demand. Storytelling is best left to others, I say.
This, of course, does nothing to help solve the quagmire of "what shall I do for this Event?" Perhaps I should quote rules from the game system I wrote? Or an Ode to the Vault Dweller? That would most certainly become just another sexual anecdote in a laundry list of strange endeavors. However, that is the best option at the moment. What I really would like is a Digital Video Camera to play with. Perhaps create some Visual Apocalypse with friends/colleagues whom I'm sure would explode at the chance to create Nuclear Fallout (that was a pun).
Maybe this is where were all headed.
A snipet of something:
RaptureThey said the rapture would be glamourous, like the night sky dancing on sequens. "They" being the Neo-Christian Collective, who's sweeping blows absorbed most of the North American Commune shortly after Congress ate the constitution while molesting small children - that last bit is probably a lie (but we all know that Cheney must have had some interesting proclivities). Bush got a little crazy(er) when he was reelected. When Russia was pushed out of the Nuclear Arms talks between the US and Korea, Russia ran to Iran; then the missles came and Bush pushed through a few key laws - see above for results of this legislation.
From the remnants of Chicago (billions of tones of steel and bone dust), the NCC, lead by a remarkably fit Jerry Falwell, built the Rapture(TM). A giant city armed with NeoChrists bear depleted uranium crucifixes is not what the writers of the Bible wanted. Falwell, replete in body armor is not the Second Coming - though he would believe it. This is not glamorous....
The treads crush Pagans and the automatic fire from the NCC's holy water guns (filled with Greek Fire) convert the masses as the Rapture(TM) destroys the countryside. Fires burn what countryside is left, an idyllic nightmare created only in the wet dreams of the kings on industry. Non NCCers run from the fire or throw themselves under the Christ Machine as it spouts "My Father, who art in Heaven..." in a dirge bereft of emotion - mechanical glee is possible. When the options are convert, convert, or convert (probably spelled with K's) and listen to that day in and day out while living on the Rapture(TM), it would seem that being crushed under a billion tons of recycled steel ain't so bad.
Some of us survive hoping that one day C'thulhu exists and we can be eaten first. Maybe we'll found an anti NCC group - the New Life Tentacle. If you pray hard enough can you create a slovering demon to fight the Washington Machine?
- I think the picture and the story mesh pretty damn well, come to think of it.