Those Spam Calls You Get Every Day are Me Trying to Warn You About the Apocalypse

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Hey, listen, while I have your attention, there is something important I need to tell you. It’s me. I’m the one calling your from those numbers that look similar to your own. I’m the one who never leaves voicemails, because although I am calling every number in the phone book, I am incredibly shy. No one ever answers, so I never get to practice talking on the phone. But, the reason I am calling is what I need to tell you now. The apocalypse is coming unless we do something, like, immediately.

 

Cool, now that I have your attention, here is the sitch. I am currently holed up in a military bunker outside of Kansas a la Cloverfield Lane. I have seats, beds, and rations for five friends and I am still looking to fill all of those. So, this is my proposition to you. If you believe me that the world is ending, come hang out in the bunk. We got board games, spam in a can, and mid-range ramen.

 

Not convinced? Yeah, no one has been yet. But I haven’t even gotten to the best part, I have all 16 seasons of Family Guy on Blu-ray. Why the extra definition? Because it matters to me as a film buff, that’s why.

 

OK, I get it. You need some more schmoozing. Each night I will read you a bedtime story, provided with complimentary hot cocoa and gooey marshmallows. Although I am legally required to tell you that the story is the Babadook, and yes I will do voices every single time.

 

Oh wait, I know why you’re not convinced. I haven’t even told you what kind of apocalypse you have to look forward to if you don’t join me in this bunker and soon. Two words: bee cholera. Yeah, that’s right. And trust me, these 5 spots are going to go fast once the first sting happens. Your intestines are going to hate you.

 

So this is it, my last offer. If you come here, I will give you a foot rub. Final offer.

 

Take it or leave it.

 

 

 

 

 

This article was written by Nathan Ellwood, who ate too many grapes. Follow him for more on Twitter @NPEllwood.

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