Days/Hours Until My Flight: About 2 Days and 15 Hours
On June 19, 2017 we learned that vampire werewolves had finally descended upon the city. It was late afternoon, and I was with my daughters, my wife, and my parents in their house on 75th street. The living room where we sat fell silent as images flickered on the TV screen before us.
"Is this real?" I said, breaking the silence.
"Of course it's real!" replied my mother, "It's on TV, isn't it?"
The Seattle Center was overrun by the hideous monsters. We gasped as one resident, driven mad with terror, flung himself from the top of the Space Needle. His body didn't even touch the ground. He was seized by one of the vampire werewolves in mid-air, and was thereafter torn to pieces. My mother, sitting next to me, shrieked in horror as pieces of the man's flesh sprayed outward from a point just above the writhing, screeching masses. Gore rained down upon guilty and innocent alike.
The Pike Place Market was the scene of a massacre. The vampire werewolves were throwing a limbless corpse back and forth across the promenade, a cruel mockery of the "fish throwing" that would have taken place there in more cheerful times. I had to cover my daughters' eyes as a third vampire werewolf lunged for the corpse, reducing it to scraps in a matter of moments.
Another camera zoomed in on Green Lake's Duck Island, where some of the pedestrians had fled seeking shelter. My wife buried her head in the couch pillows as a troupe of the vampire werewolves emerged from beneath the waters of the lake, closing in on their hapless prey. We all knew there was no hope for those people. They had no avenue of escape from the monsters that pursued them.
"Change to another news channel," said my father, "Let's see what the other networks are showing."
And as if the vampire werewolves were not enough, the Seattle Aquarium suffered an invasion by transgender cyborgs from the future. The transgender cyborgs were attempting to use the bathrooms near the ticket booth, but the more conservative aquarium employees insisted upon their self-identification as either "male" or "female." The transgender cyborgs, coming as they did from a more enlightened future time, refused to comply, and instead assailed the employees with particle beams from their prosthetic limbs.
I think I might have fainted for a few minutes, because when I opened my eyes again the news was showing a different location, with a different scene in progress.
The transgender cyborgs were hosting a rave on the West Seattle Ferry. Strobe lights burst from the confines of the metal-hulled vessel, and we hid our discomfort at the much better time they were all having. "My God!" said my mother, "They're handing out drugs and condoms! How dare they alter their consciousness! How dare they practice safe sex!"
Yet dare they did, and even this was nothing compared to what the TV next revealed to our astonished eyes.
A cameraman in the International District was capturing the first meeting of the vampire werewolves and the trangender cyborgs from the future. To our dismay, the vampire werewolves and the trangender cyborgs actually seemed to be working together, and some of them were clearly engaged in friendly conversation. We listened closely, and we learned that there was some confusion as to whether they should eat the cameraman, convert him into a vampire werewolf, help him transition into a new gender identity, blast him with a particle beam, or invite him to the rave in West Seattle. In the end they agreed to do all four in a certain order, with the one-armed trangender cybernetic vampire werewolf cameraman ending up at the rave, with only slight burns and a great story to tell.
"We need to do something!" shouted my wife as my younger daughter changed the channel to Scooby Doo. My father, spurned to action, wrested the remote control from her grasp and selected a third news channel.
Northgate Mall appeared on the screen. Flames spread from the main entrance between the California Pizza Kitchen and Azteca. Hordes of panicked shoppers ran this way and that. As the camera scrolled upward, we saw the imposing figure of a colossal, irradiated Donald Trump, his orange skin glowing in the sunlight as his massive form towered over the scene. "I ought to tweet about this!" he roared as he picked up a nearby truck, shaking the hapless passengers loose from inside. "Let's make Northgate great again!"
In horror the cameraman must have realized the danger he was in, because the picture wobbled slightly as the gigantic form of the Chief Executive looked straight into it. There was a moment of tense silence as Trump carelessly threw the truck over his shoulder, and a deafening burst of sound as it exploded into flames some distance away.
"FAKE NEWS!!!" he complained from on high toward the camera, "FAKE!!! NEWS!!!"
And then the screen went black as the cameraman met his undoubted end. We were left to wonder what horrific toll the wrath of Trump would exact upon other frightened shoppers at Northgate Mall, and what the rest of Trump's cabinet were doing, provided that they'd been similarly irradiated, and enlarged to several times their normal size.
Vampire werewolves in the bus tunnel beneath Westlake Center. Transgender cyborgs in Discovery Park. Enraged, gigantic television personalities (and sometime Presidents) stomping down the length of the I-5 Freeway, raining death upon those stuck in traffic. It was all so much to process. Our minds reeled at the import of what we were seeing, and what it might mean for our morning commute.
Other news channels revealed other horrors. Shape-shifting extraterrestrials on the Microsoft campus. Swarms of angry spider-wasp-mosquitoes at the local Starbucks. Robots capable of transforming into entirely useless objects like 8-track players and old pre-WWII radio cabinets. The terror of it all overwhelmed us, and we sat there mute, unable to register the catalog of atrocities thus far disclosed.
"Can we go back to Scooby Doo?" said my younger daughter, "The news is boring!"
1. a. The World
1. b. The United States and the Rest of North America
1. c. My State
1. e. My Neighborhood