Overall, this was an improvement. The zombies

Overall, this was an improvement. The zombies had finally died and the world was at peace for the first time. Still, the sky was still purple and baseball was the only sport left

Oh, how Steve longed to be on the hardwood. Shooting hoops was his passion, and the realization that he would never be able to touch a basketball hurt him to his core.

He was a double agent in a remote village in afganistan looking for the 233rd most wanted member of al queda. He pretended to be a mula. Except, they had a crude basketball court

constructed from damaged military hardware. That's when he went native. Soon, he was leading the informal Afghani Basketball League in assists. He never heard the drone that wasted

him, turning the stadium into a corpse-strewn crater. The JSOC office squad celebrated when… "Uh guys, we got some ACTUAL 'baseball cards' mixed into the pile for the drone strikes

That will happen at 3:59:30 this afternoon." Everyone synchronised their watches. It was now 1:50:25. Every second mattered. This was no joke. It was June 12, 2016. Things were

greenish smudges, like you were seeing them through jello. Gross lime jello. No longer oblivious to what was to happen at 3:59:30, everyone agreed that the remaining two hours

of humanity's brief escapades in the universe should be spent reenacting the best of times & the worst of times. After recapping the best of times in about 5 min the last 1 hr 55 m

was spent role playing humanity's biggest boobs: the hunting of the last giant kangaroo; the invention of the bagpipes; Bob Dylan's first electric concert. It was time to die so we

climbed into our graves and wrote our Last Wills and Testaments. I left everything to my sea monkeys, who have been dead since I was a child. Just to piss off my kids.