This is an IMAGINARY dialogue that The Probligo (P) and Teflonman (T) might have on Armeggedon if we ever met up.
This blogpost also arose out of P's offering Taupo in place of Rapehu and his waiting for the Cook Strait tremblor.
Innocent bloggers have not been harmed in the course of writing this blogpost.
In some cold, windy coastal area in New Zealand (assuming not everywhere is like that)
T: That outcrop seems like a nice place to picnic today.
P: Hm...
Both men walk towards the rock jutting out to the Pacific Ocean. The sky is clear but a fine mist of the Pacific's spray lingers in the air. The briny smell reminds both men how close to the ocean they are. The sun is partially hidden behind some clouds, the winds threatening to blow away any word uttered.
P: You know, it is a stupid idea to sit here. What if the rock fractured off the rest and fell into the sea?
T: Then where would you prefer to sit?
P: Let's sit here.
T rolled his eyes for P's unnecessary outburst. P mutters under his breath, T overhears P saying we should have gotten the sick trio of Ol' Whig, Starsplash and TF to join us there.
T: Tell me more about your vision of the Cook Strait earthquake.
T takes a big bite of his sandwich, hoping that he wouldn't have to respond for as long as he could chew and keep the food in his mouth.
P: It comes. Booms...
T thought he heard "Boomz" and nearly spat out his food.
P: (contined) "cross fault." Runs between the tail of the Main Alpine Fault (the Southern Alps in effect) and the Wairarapa Fault.
T: Mm hm...
P: Last big one in 1851 or thereabouts. Probably 8+ Richter.
T thought he heard "loved the 3 guys to be here" but he wasn't too sure.
P: (continued) virtually the whole of Wellington would go.
T swallowed his food. He knew he'd better say something or P is going to turn his fire from the 3 missing men to him and he didn't think that a face-first pilgrimage to the jagged rocks below this outcrop would be a welcome traditional Maori welcome.
T: Tsunami?
T wasn't sure if P was listening but felt that utterance was courtesy enough. For now. Before long, T was certain P was in his own fantasy world.
P: Early afternoon on a Tuesday would be fine - Parliament in full cry - would solve a lot of political problems...
P takes a big bite into his sandwich the same time T turned to look at him and asked cheekily.
T: The 3 men...?
P feigned ignorance.
P: Oh, nice and crispy lettuce and cucumbers! You were saying?
T: (Damn it, wily old fox!) I mean, there'd be volcanic eruptions?
P looked far into the horizon as if someone is going to walk out from where the skies meet the waters. He chomped on his food pensively and thought. T wasn't sure if P wasn't deeply thinking. P finally swallowed his mouthful.
P: Probably if the plates were coordinated... Booms. They go off one by one.
T: And tsunamis too?
P: Perhaps.
T: But won't they cancel each other out?
P: Maybe volcanoes first. Then tsunami.
T: Volcanic ash columns and ash plumes followed by vapourisation of giant tidal waves.
P: We'll be steamed alive...
T: In a sulphurous pit no less.
P: Why'd think it's called Armeggedon?
T and P took another bite from their sandwich. Both men chewed in silence.
T: Where is a good place to begin all these carnage?
P: Anywhere is fine. Maybe America.
T: Why not Australia? Starts with A too, you know.
P: Great idea. And then what role is Singapore going to play?
T: We'll provide water sterilization tablets. You've got more cows than we have people, damn it.
P: You're really good at cussing, yah?
T: Yah. So, you want them tablets? Can help you purify the water and avoid diarrhoea.
P: I'm not sure... Ok. Save a pellet for me. Better store enough to last a long time.
T: I'll see what I can do.
Each takes another bite into the sandwich. T is out of sandwich, while P has a small piece of crust left.
T: You guys make small sandwiches.
P: Really?
T: I'm out. You've got another? I'm still hungry.
P: Maybe. Let's check the basket...
P rummages through the picnic basket and finds no more sandwiches.
P: Sorry. I think we ran out of cheese this morning. So there isn't more sandwiches.
T: What? Then what about bread?
P: There's a loaf at home.
T: (Muttering) If that isn't impetus enough to push you off...
P: Want an apple?
T: Ok.
P: Here.
T: Windfall?
P: How'd you guess?
T: It's all brown.
P: Oops. Wine?
T: I don't drink.
P: It's coming the end of the world anyway. Get drunk.
T: Maybe.
T takes out his water bottle and took a swig.
T: Water tastes better than wine.
P: So what are your plans after our imagined 2012?
T: You know, the plans never changed.
P: What are you going to do tonight?
T: The same thing we do every night, Pinky — try to take over the world!
P: Ah, but then you'd have your term cut short.
T: True. Never stopped Obama.
P: Don't get me started on America.
T: Why not? Say, what's that.... Is that the bottom of your end of the Pacific Ocean? The water's retreated!
P: Look! I parted the sea with my brain power.
A column of water 250 meters high is approaching the rock outcrop really fast.
T: Good try, P. Time to get out of the tsunami simulator.
Both men walked out of the Science Centre.
T: I'm hungry.
P: Me too. Let's fly to Houston for lunch.
T: What? Fly to Houston? TF will be there but will there be lunch?
P: There better be. Or we'll eat him... Perhaps not. Not without the epilator.
T: You have an ax to grind with TF?
P: No. Yes. No. Yes....
T: I get it. Let's just eat something here. It says "Houston Dog."
P: Do you eat dog?
T: Yeah.
P: Real dogs?
T: Yes.
P: Real dogs really?
T: Yes yeah yessy.
P: Ew...
T: There.
T passed a Houston Dog to P, who took a bite. T watched as P as he ate his hotdog bun.
T: Are you familiar with the Chinese saying, "Hanging a goat's head but selling dog meat?"
P: Maybe. Why?
T: How does canine taste?
