It is the year 3069. The prophesy will be

It is the year 3069. The prophesy will be fulfilled. All the signs are here. Eric Estrada avatars with exploding coconuts are a red flag for Father John. They gathered on the Rock

of Gibraltar with Father Joe in his mobile confessional. For a peaceable man of God, he sure knows how to enrage avatars. Is it God's purpose? Oh! Eric Estrada! Your stretchy pants

have something moving in them. Could it be? Father Joe peered judgementally over his owlish spectacles. "Remove your pants this instant!" he commanded Eric Estrada. "And CONFESS

YOUR SINS!" Eric Estrada suddenly remembered that he had an untimely dose of Viagra earlier that day. He started to wonder about what his recently rediscovered manhood

would think of him if he found out. His recently rediscovered manhood had not agreed to come back to Eric Estrada. No, it wanted to see what he was up to first and just see

what it could do to help. Not that he really needed it. He had spent years without it, and that wasn't about to change, now was it. He sneered

And spoke ill of Her Majesty the Shark Queen, who had one of her minions club him to death. The presstitute media declared it a suicide. The minion who did it was pardoned later.

The minion died the next day of a totally random Shuttem Up event called at the last minute by some deep state bound multidimensional entity known locally as Bubba Qui Omicron.

And Bubba, seeing what had happened, finally decided to break the silence.

"I know this will make me unpopular," Bubba began, "but I will no longer tolerate this sort of crap." He took off his baseball hat and threw it on the ground for emphasis. Enough.