Once again, the media graphics were flashing as the newscaster had breaking news. Alas, it was far too little and too late as the impending doom - was no longer pending.
"Oh, my God!"
"What? Did that orange ruffled-haired idiot that looks like a hybrid cross between Mary Trump and an orangutan in The White House just go to war?!"
"No, turn up the volume."
"Boy, this is creepy. These news stories are like Grimm fairy tales being retold."
"It appears now from reports that are coming in that canaries are dying en masse. All around the world, canaries are falling, some are even plummeting to the floor. Some are hanging upside down, strangely still clenching their perch. But nonetheless they are dead with rigor mortis setting in, and even more peculiar, others in the very middle of singing, or talking, stop - and then keel over in their cages."
"How can this be?"
"Obviously, owners of these canaries are shocked. The Center for Disease Control has put everyone on a heightened state of alertness. But so far, both Homeland Security and the Environmental Protection Agency have ruled out both toxins in the air and in the ground. They have tried to ease the concerns of a suddenly frightened American public while, at the same time, assuring them that they will get to the bottom of this mystery."
"To reiterate, at this late hour, the only thing we truly know is: Canaries are dying by the bushel fill."
Plop, plop.
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