At last night’s debate there were no winners, given that it ended with the slow, steady dissolution of time and space as we know it, which can only result in the ultimate extinction of humanity.
The debate started innocently enough, with those Elder Things who qualified for it taking the stage promptly at 8pm. The first few questions focused on some of the safer areas of policy about which the candidates largely agree. They covered a range of subjects including healthcare, immigration, and the proper way to demonstrate reverence during rituals of state.
Cracks in the sheer fabric we call reason began to appear, however, when one of the candidates* accused another of causing the deadly and novel plague that recently raged around the world. The accused retorted that they would never have created such an ineffectual virus with so poor an infection and mortality rate, and that should they be elected as the Supreme Worshipped One, they would put all of their efforts and resources into developing a new epidemic so dreadful and efficacious that none would escape its metaphorical unguis.
After that heated exchange, the debate died down for awhile as the moderators turned to questions related to matters of cosmic relations, which are traditionally of less concern to voters and acolytes. Things once again took a turn for the worse, however, when one of the candidates accused all of its fellow Ancient Ones of being out of touch with reality. This set off a storm of exuberant fury and blasphemous rage that included much shouting and tentacle waving.
During the fracas, one candidate stood to its full height and declared, “Reality serves my pleasure, and I will fashion it unto the designs of mine own desire!” Most commentators agree that the utterance was more than a mere threat, and may have even been an invocation, because at that point everything began to crumble. The Old Ones grappled with each other physically, and some claim to have witnessed demonstrations of will outside the bounds of normal human perception, though such assertions are by their nature impossible to verify.
Whatever happened, it is certain that we now live in the worst possible timeline. Whichever candidate you support, it likely does not matter now, for we are all doomed to a protracted deterioration of mind and body that will bring an endless stream of pain and suffering before the sweet mercy of death allows us the release of oblivion.
Don’t forget to register to vote before your state’s deadline.
* A cowardly and weak-willed desire to retain a shred of sanity prevents this reporter from even writing the candidates’ names. If you cannot identify them from their policy positions, then it is likely you have already succumbed to the existential dread which will eventually draw all of us into its inexorable, gaping maw.
