Apocalyse Cow

“Why are we still out here Sarge? I’m tired of following this cow around.”

“Do you want the world to end Private? ‘Cause this is how you make the world end! Now pick up that shovel!”

“Yes Sarge. But I mean, do we really have to follow it around? Even if the stupid cow swallowed that bomb, why can’t we just wait until it comes out with the cow pies and pick it up then? We been out here all day.”

“We can’t afford that kind of mistake you numbnuts! I thought I explained to you that this was the new, top-secret ion bomb! Powerful enough to destroy the whole world! You’d leave that lying around in the cow pasture?”

“Hmm...guess not Sarge.”

“Honestly Private, if brains were dynamite, you wouldn’t be able to blow your helmet off.”

“Pretty sure you stole that one from Kurt Vonnegut, Sarge.”

“Shut up Private!”

“Hey, Sarge?”

“What?”

“How come it’s called an ion bomb?”

“How should I know Private? I look like a nuclear bomb scientist to you?”

“Um...no?”

“Top brass had a briefing. Didn’t make any sense to me. Lots of science-y words.”

“Maybe you should have paid it more attention Sarge”

“Really Private? Pretty sure ‘world-ending bomb’ was the important part of that briefing.”

“If it’s that important, how come y’all let a cow eat it?”

“I didn’t Private! Do I look like base security to you? I’m just the poor bastard who got stuck out here with some lunkhead private to fix this mess!”

“Why’d that cow go and eat it then?”

“Do I look like a cow to you Private? How should I know? Although, I did hear that it tasted like grass.”

“Why’d that feller go and make world-ending bomb that’s small enough for a cow to swallow and taste like grass Sarge?”

“Do I look like a mad scientist to you Private? How should I know? Anyway, if you’re crazy enough to make a bomb strong enough to end the world, I guess making it taste like grass makes about as much sense as anything else.”

“Who is the feller that keeps making these things Sarge?”

“Dr. Nitroglycerin Overdrive. Been making and selling weapons to the army for 15 years now. Started out as some non-violent immobilizing weapons. Worked his way up to less non-violent inventory here recently. Makes me shudder in my sleep thinking ‘bout what some of his gadgets would do to them enemy soldiers. Makes me half feel sorry for the poor clods.

“I don’t approve of that guy or his type of science.”

“You don’t approve of science, Sarge?”

“I approve of science in general Private. Just not the specific branch of science that could cause the world to end if a cow accidentally gets ahold of it. That just seems like irresponsible sciencing to me Private.”

“Guess so, when you put it like that Sarge.”

“Anyway, now the little loon’s worked his way up to a full-blown doomsday device. Guess you could say it’s his masterpiece. Or maybe I should say his disaster-piece.”

“Pretty sure you stole that from Animaniacs, Sarge.”

“Shut up Private.”

“Is Nitroglycerin Overdrive, really his real name Sarge?”

“No, I think he changed it in college.”

“How come?”

“Uh...marketing? Probably easier to convince people to buy from ‘Dr. Overdrive’s Doomsday Depot’ than ‘Gary Hicks Overstock Ammunition Outlet.’”

“Why are we following it around like this Sarge? Why don’t we just make steak out of it? Get the bomb and dinner at the same time?”

“PETA. President’s orders. Don’t want to tarnish the army’s image by being cruel to animals.”

“Oh.”

“Best we stick to blowing up foreigners, rather than upset the animal lovers.”

“They’re fine with us blowing up folks in other countries?”

“Yeah, as long as we don’t hit anything cute and fluffy, they seem pretty okay with all of it.”

“This is taking forever Sarge!”

“Well,don’t complain to me! None of this is my fault! Weren’t you raised on a farm Private? Why don’t you put some of your down-home wisdom to work here? Make the cow do his business a little faster?”

“It’s a hers, not a his, Sarge.”

“Do I look like I care Private?”

“Anyhow, it ain’t acting like any cow we ever had in our pastures. I ain’t seen it chew its cud once since we started this.”

“Chew its cud?”

“Sure Sarge. Cows is ruminants, ain’t they?”

“Uh...well...yes, I mean obviously Private.”

“So they gots to spend ‘bout eight hours every day chewing their cud, so their food can get digested. Real hard to digest plant matter. S’why most herbivores have a longer digestive system than us omnivores and them carnivores. We been following Bessie here around for over twelve hours, and I ain’t seen her chew or make a cow pie once. S’like she’s bound up real good.”

“Jesus Private. ‘Join the army! Kill foreigners! Follow around constipated cows!’”

“Not much of a recruiting slogan, is it Sarge?”

“No, can’t say it is.”

“When I joined up, I didn’t figure that there’d be this much time wandering around doing nothing. Could’ve done that at home.”

“Yeah, but now you’re wasting time for your country and getting paid for it. You’re a professional time waster Private.”

“It does my heart good to know that I’m making all them tax-payers proud of me Sarge.”

“Let’s not go overboard Private.”

“Hey, look Sarge! She’s about to do her business!”

“Finally! Get that shovel! Look alive Private!”

“Yes sir!”

“Oh God! That's foul! Is that normal Private?”

“No, that’s a little worse than normal Sarge. That bomb must not have agreed with her. Poor girl.”

“Are you serious Private? Look there it is! Shovel it up! Hurry up Private! She’s moving! Don’t let her step on…”

“What was that there crunching sound Sarge?”

“Well, that can’t be…”

*****

“Welcome back to our special live report on the explosion in the New Mexico desert. We go live to reporter Anna MacDonald, who is on the scene. Anna?”

“Thank you Robert. I’m here at a temporary shelter, set up near O’Rourke Air Force base. The military isn’t letting anyone get closer to the scene of the incident. What happened is still unclear. Despite the shock-wave being felt at least two states away, no one seems to know what happened.”

“What about the substance being expelled into the atmosphere? Has there been any update on that?”

“Unfortunately no, Robert. As viewers who’ve been following this story are aware, a continuous stream of some kind of dark substance has been rising into the atmosphere and spreading out since the time of the...uh...blast? Military scientists have been asked about the substance and so far have only said that it’s, and I quote, ‘bad.’

“Meanwhile… oh, look! General Neglegere of the Air Force has taken the podium to speak. Let’s listen.”

“Members of the press, thank you for coming today. I want to clear up a few misconceptions about the events of earlier today.

“This morning, there was an accident which caused the detonation of a prototype explosive. Other than the shock-wave, there were no other known effects. The situation has been contained and the clean-up effort has begun and is proceeding as expected.”

“General, what about the black stuff being pumped into the atmosphere? Surely that counts as a side-effect?”

“Thank you for your question. That’s actually not related to the blast. It’s, uh...a part of our plan to reduce the growing incidences of skin cancer.”

“What? Are you serious? By blotting out the Sun?”

“Well, you can’t get cancer from UV rays if there aren’t any UV rays, right?”

“You can’t possibly expect us to believe...Hey! Let go of me! Ow!”

“I apologized for that interruption ladies and gentlemen. As I was saying, everything is under control and there’s no reason to be concerned. 

“On happier news, from our space colonization program, Earth’s first colony ship, the Francis Crozier, launched today, carrying the first human settlers to Proxima Centauri. Please join me in wishing them a....what? Quit pulling on my… Keep it down! What do you mean it went the wrong way? Oh, fu…

“Ahem. I apologize for that interruption. As I was saying, please join me in wishing the brave men and women of the Francis Crozier a safe trip as they journey to Epsilon Eridani.”