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Postmodern Village
est. 1999
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Futurescript: A Fragment from the Wormhole
by T.S. DeHaviland

JEFF: Welcome to the 17th Annual Trump Memorial Bake-Off and Pre-Thanksgiving Super-Shopper Special brought to you by Purina and WhitehouseWest, the City of Beverly Hills. Your Mistress of Ceremonies Ivanka and Honorary Bake-Meister Barron are lighting the ceremonial ovens as we speak, and President-for-Life Pro-Tem Eric will be arriving shortly on Marine One, brought to you by Sikorsky, the Official Chopper of American Greatness: Sikorsky, greatness one blade at a time.

KELLYANNE: That’s right, Jeff. And what are those ovens powered by?

JEFF: West Virginia coal, KellyAnne. West Virgina coal: big, beautiful coal, powering the way things are.

KELLYANNE: Roll coal, Jeff.

JEFF: That’s right Kel—and it looks like this year’s contestants are just arriving on the North Lawn. We’ve got quite a line-up this year.

KELLYANNE: That’s right, Jeff. All the major supermarket chains are represented. Very profitable, not a loser among them. And even Pinterest is here. Oh, and there’s the bear! The Pinterest Recipe Bear! Wave to the bear, everybody!

JEFF: What a treat.

[Sound of channel changing.]

REPORTER: Chief Justice The Divine and Honorable Roy Moore will now pronounce the sentence. He’s being handed the ceremonial rifle now from the teenage page. Lots of competition these days for that very well-regarded role—naturally only young girls need apply. With their parents’ permission, of course.

[Hushed silence. A deep and elderly drawl.]

ROY: Ah naw prunaunce yew geeltee uv secksul impruh-pri-teez.

[A rifle shot is heard, then the voice of a bailiff.]

BALLIFF: The remains of the Most Dishonorable and Bad/Disgusting Guy Al Franken, Jew, are hereby sentenced to Being Blown Up by The Most Powerful American Ordinance, the Mother of All Bombs, and his ashes spread over forbidden Muslim country.

ROY: Next up. Sentenseen uv fake news reportresses tew bleedin’ out of thur where-everz.

[Sound of channel changing.]

COMMERCIAL VOICE OVER [male, calmly]: And where will you be in The Terrible Days to Come? Try Tribulation City. Fully gated and surrounded by a 30-foot wall, Tribulation City is a planned community based on the wisdom of at least two Corinthians and guaranteed to be populated by 100% Real Americans. [Excited now.] And who can beat those desert views? Tribulation City--hot enough for golfing all year long and white as the driven sn--