Four o’clock was the hour they had awaited. It was the time everything would end. As the hour approached, there was panic as people tried all sorts of ways to stop the inevitable.
Some dug shelters, stocked them with food hoping to survive years on tins of baked beans and spaghetti.
Some congregated in churches, joining in continuous prayer, hoping a miracle would arrive to save them.
Some believed it was all a hoax and took to stealing what they could believing there would be no change, and they would be the beneficiaries of people’s stupidity.
At three minutes to four, the clock stopped. Four o’clock never arrived. People held their collective breathes anticipating the end.
As the hour passed, people breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing happened, life would go on. The streets quickly filled with joyous folk celebrating.
At five minutes passed the hour there was an announcement. “Sorry about the delay, late lunch, got caught up with things. Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”
And with that life came to an end.
“Thought they’d put up more of a fight,” said the head alien, “but progress is progress, and they’d served their purpose.”