The Very Last Hurrah
The very last hurrah was said by a man by the name of Vince. Vince was an average blue-collar worker. He worked hard all day long. Went home for supper and then went out for beers with the boys at the local bar.
On the Tuesday night before the end of the world he was, as usual, out for beers with the boys. He laughed at something he said that really wasn’t funny. The man on his right laughed out of pity. The man on his left laughed because he was inebriated and as a result his sense of humor had reverted back to the level of a six-year-old.
Vince smiled and tipped back the rest of his fermented beverage. In one motion (that while quite easy when one is sober, is rather difficult when one is drunk) he stood from his stool, set down his mug, and turned to leave. Looking not unlike a man swimming through pudding he made for the door. This he succeeded at with only one collision, which he politely apologized for. The offended party was in fact and inanimate wooden table, but the gesture was genuine none the less.
Vince stumbled out into the street and decided that the particular moment that was upon him was so wonderful that it deserved some degree of celebration.
“Hurrah!” he cried out happily.
Now it just so happens that at that moment a car was passing by the corner that Vince was exuberantly proclaiming his love for everything involved in making him so happy. The window of this car happened to be rolled down and the driver of the car heard this cry. Startled and intrigued to discover the source of such happiness the driver turned his gaze upon the blissful buffoon.
Disappointed to learn that the origin was nothing more than a delighted drunk the driver returned his focus to the road in front of him. This he did just in time to say a foul word before smashing headlong into a telephone pole.
“I’m leaving you several microwave dinners in the freezer,” Pam told her husband Harry over the phone.
However, at that moment a pole that had been supporting the telephone line they were using was ran into by a distracted driver. As a result the line went dead. So, what poor Harry heard was, “I’m leaving you…” and then a sharp CLICK.
Harry was a bit of an overly emotional fellow and drew the immediate conclusion that his wife was leaving him. In despair he began to slam his face against the panel in front of him. Harry, as it so happens, worked the late night shift at a nuclear missile silo. The cataclysmic result of his hear-broken head-smashings was that a nuclear missile was launched.
Generally there are a good many fail-safe features that will prevent this sort of behaviour from resulting in a nuclear launch. In this case, however, these features had become inoperative due to a bit of damaged wiring that someone had made a mental note to get fixed. We can safely assume that this mental note was significantly less effective than a written one perhaps would have been.
Alarms rang and bright red lights flashed as Harry muttered a word that was quite similar to the one uttered before a certain telephone pole was ran into. Such words do not, in fact, do anything to avert a nuclear launch, so don’t even try. The Launch proceeded on its merry little way. Nuclear missiles are made to blow things up. Despite this they spend a greater portion of their life spans collecting dust in missile silos. So, when they do get the opportunity to go and blow something up they are quite happy indeed.
Not long after its launch the missile’s activity became apparent to a very perturbed Chinese defense technician. He was perturbed because the missile’s activity seemed to be directed towards his home country. Calls were quickly made, politicians were notified, and in no time a counterstrike was launched.
Nuclear wars are quite a bit like when a character in a musical begins to sing in a busy place. It isn’t long before everyone has joined in. Everyone who felt they had a reason to fire a rocket did so. And several countries joined in who simply felt left out because nobody had invited them to the nuclear holocaust.
In a matter of minutes the entire human race was completely decimated. And it was all thanks to a drunk man named Vince who just had to say, “Hurrah.”
On the Tuesday night before the end of the world he was, as usual, out for beers with the boys. He laughed at something he said that really wasn’t funny. The man on his right laughed out of pity. The man on his left laughed because he was inebriated and as a result his sense of humor had reverted back to the level of a six-year-old.
Vince smiled and tipped back the rest of his fermented beverage. In one motion (that while quite easy when one is sober, is rather difficult when one is drunk) he stood from his stool, set down his mug, and turned to leave. Looking not unlike a man swimming through pudding he made for the door. This he succeeded at with only one collision, which he politely apologized for. The offended party was in fact and inanimate wooden table, but the gesture was genuine none the less.
Vince stumbled out into the street and decided that the particular moment that was upon him was so wonderful that it deserved some degree of celebration.
“Hurrah!” he cried out happily.
Now it just so happens that at that moment a car was passing by the corner that Vince was exuberantly proclaiming his love for everything involved in making him so happy. The window of this car happened to be rolled down and the driver of the car heard this cry. Startled and intrigued to discover the source of such happiness the driver turned his gaze upon the blissful buffoon.
Disappointed to learn that the origin was nothing more than a delighted drunk the driver returned his focus to the road in front of him. This he did just in time to say a foul word before smashing headlong into a telephone pole.
“I’m leaving you several microwave dinners in the freezer,” Pam told her husband Harry over the phone.
However, at that moment a pole that had been supporting the telephone line they were using was ran into by a distracted driver. As a result the line went dead. So, what poor Harry heard was, “I’m leaving you…” and then a sharp CLICK.
Harry was a bit of an overly emotional fellow and drew the immediate conclusion that his wife was leaving him. In despair he began to slam his face against the panel in front of him. Harry, as it so happens, worked the late night shift at a nuclear missile silo. The cataclysmic result of his hear-broken head-smashings was that a nuclear missile was launched.
Generally there are a good many fail-safe features that will prevent this sort of behaviour from resulting in a nuclear launch. In this case, however, these features had become inoperative due to a bit of damaged wiring that someone had made a mental note to get fixed. We can safely assume that this mental note was significantly less effective than a written one perhaps would have been.
Alarms rang and bright red lights flashed as Harry muttered a word that was quite similar to the one uttered before a certain telephone pole was ran into. Such words do not, in fact, do anything to avert a nuclear launch, so don’t even try. The Launch proceeded on its merry little way. Nuclear missiles are made to blow things up. Despite this they spend a greater portion of their life spans collecting dust in missile silos. So, when they do get the opportunity to go and blow something up they are quite happy indeed.
Not long after its launch the missile’s activity became apparent to a very perturbed Chinese defense technician. He was perturbed because the missile’s activity seemed to be directed towards his home country. Calls were quickly made, politicians were notified, and in no time a counterstrike was launched.
Nuclear wars are quite a bit like when a character in a musical begins to sing in a busy place. It isn’t long before everyone has joined in. Everyone who felt they had a reason to fire a rocket did so. And several countries joined in who simply felt left out because nobody had invited them to the nuclear holocaust.
In a matter of minutes the entire human race was completely decimated. And it was all thanks to a drunk man named Vince who just had to say, “Hurrah.”
posted by the plaid donkey at 11:11 PM
4 Comments:
hahahahahahahahaha
lol. and yet somehow not . . . the chain reaction scary, I'll never hurrah again.:)
anna
The drunk was luckily able to save his own life by engaging his power-move. he swallowed the telephone pole making him "in-vince-a-pole."
And to think the whole nuclear war was fought... all for the want of a paper clip.
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