*I would firstly like to point out, this is NOT about Amesoeurs, it's simply the first picture that came into my head when I thought of wastelands. So shutup. Also, if this fails to be funny in the slightest, I apologize, I wrote the whole thing while listening to Requiem For A Tower*
I’ve completed Borderlands twice now, and am getting ever increasingly aware of gaming’s new obsession with post-apocalyptic wastelands, despite them all looking the same (you’ll be aware of this if you’ve played both Fallout 3 and Borderlands, the latter simply having more rocks and less city). So I’ve decided that tonight, I shall make my own wasteland. Prepare, for the underwhelming power of my…IMAGINATION.
In the late 2010’s, every single television set in the world, explodes. Not nuclear bomb explosion of course, just plain old grenade-sized ones. Roughly 750 million people were killed from this event, leaving another 500 million severely (hopefully) injured. A few days pass, and mankind are suffering extreme withdrawal symptoms. The streets are bare, excluding the occasional man or woman scratching illegible signs into shop windows, brick walls, lamp posts, etc. Every now and again a buck-naked man jumps off a building while masturbating, yelling ‘WHY DO YOU CURSE THEE, O SWEET SIMON COWELL’ as his body becomes nothing more than broken fragments on the unforgiving concrete pavement below. Inside their homes, mankind remain in the corners, rocking gently in the fetal position, both sobbing and crying at the same time, determined to recall the last edition of Big Brother they saw, their memories of it falling away through the sieve they claim to be a mind. ‘Did that adorable cunt Marcus win? I don’t know…I hope he did…I don’t remember…I DON’T REMEMBER, I DON’T REMEMBER’, the chorus is heard throughout the homes of the last of humankind. Gun-shot wounds and slit wrists are all that plague their minds as they helplessly claw at the memory of Marcus’ sideburns, which slowly become less and less manly by the day. There’s not a human left on earth that isn’t riddled with psychosis and delirium. Each day the body count doubles, triples, kagillioniples, until there are roughly 5 million ‘people’ left on the earth.
At this point, cities have been leveled; all forms of civilization have been lost, from social hierarchy to public decency. Towns have become the new base of operations for human decision making, and within weeks form a corrupt monarchy. Several tribes are formed around the UK, many of them performing self-cannibalistic rituals, while hop-scotching. Gravity suddenly reverses itself and the sky becomes painted by the blood/semen of a billion fallen/horny men, before it goes back to normal at which point it does, indeed, rain blood…and sperm. Years of torture, pain and chaos ensue, and TV is, eventually, forgotten. Although many religions are now formed on old TV show hosts as being their gods (with Jeremy Kyle being the devil in the majority of them), to which tribesmen or townsmen weekly offer sacrifices (mostly children). After a great war is waged between the townsmen and tribesmen, which was caused by a clash of beliefs/they got bored, a golden age occurs (basically all children are now dead).
And then global warming happens. The End.
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