The Apocalypse of Fletcher, ch. 1

In the fifth year of the reign of George W. Bush, the third year of the war, the president invaded the Oregon Territory. In July, a nuclear power plant in Eastern Washington, known locally as the State of Madison, had melted down in such an event that made the Chernobyl disaster look like spilt milk. The U.S. Army was brought in to keep the peace, but it soon became apparent to the locals that this was an occupation. Indeed, it became obvious that the entire Iraq War was a ruse to deflect attention away from the real front: Cascadia.

Much of the eastern lands were swept away quickly. Many refugees fled to British Colombia, the north Cascadian state. The action degenerated to guerrilla warfare, as men and hominoids together fought off the invaders in the forests and in the mountains. The Sasquatch Militia was full of adept fighters and kept the Army at bay. The war continued to escalate until the Army started using Kamikaze Airplanes to start fires to destroy the forests: the Sasquatch natural fighting areas. Cascadians could think of more efficient ways of starting fires, but were not about to enlighten the invaders.

The seas were mined and the mountains were heavily guarded. Strict blackouts were kept and anti-aircraft machinery was throughout the land. The Cascadian Corridor, stretching from Salem to Vancouver, B.C., was kept safe from the invaders. So long as Cascadia’s infrastructure remained intact, there was hope. Thus, the Sasquatch Militia continued to fight from the mountains and forests, from the valley and rivers.

During this time of tumult, while visiting the local 7-11, I, Fletcher, was caught up in a time warp as I was fastening my bike to the bike rack and fell spiraling back in time. I awoke to find myself inside the Lord Jesus Christ upon the night of His crucifixion. It was hard to see because He was breathing so hard that His chest, where I was located, kept moving around. I just barely dodged being stabbed by some jerk with a spear. Who does he think he is? Anyway, as my host had died, I was wondering what that meant for me. Then the LORD caught me up to the third heaven.

As I looked around, I saw the angels surrounding the LORD. They were practicing for the end times by lobbing poisonous vials amongst themselves. In the distance, I saw Tree Octopi that had already done their bit for king and country. More observation showed snowy mountains and clean streams of water from there flowed. The waters flowed through forest and meadow, bringing life to all. The rivers continued to flow to the west, where they deposited their life-giving elixir into an ocean without end. It was beautiful beyond compare. I knew this must be the northwest corner of heaven.

Amidst the trumpet calls, voices, roaring, and thunders, the LORD spoke to me saying, "You shall be my prophet to the people of the United States! You will speak judgment to the people and shall be obedient to my words without debate! If you prophecy something that I have not commanded, I shall smite thee that very date!"

"Oh LORD," I answered, "You are just and fair, and you use exclamatory rhymes so captivatingly; but how am I, a mere bum who smells of beer and urine and spits when he talks supposed to speak convincingly to the people? How am I supposed to know what to say?"

The LORD then drew his sword and cut me into three pieces. He said unto me, "As I have cut you into three, so in three you shall be! Your spirit and your soul will remain up here; I shall speak to them and they shall relay the message, don't fear!" Then the LORD used His massive roll of duct tape to piece me back together. "Go!" He said to me, "Go out to the nation! You shall start thy ministry in Seattle's Union Station!"