I wake up, get dressed, and walk out my front door like I do everyday. But today, the sky is glowing orange and ash rains down everywhere. My front yard looks like a smoldering desert landscape. I rub my eyes to see if that’s what I think it is – yep.
In the middle of my front yard is Johnny Depp, playing an electric guitar. The chords emanating from the guitar sound like crows being boiled in acid. I ask myself: Is this the apocalypse, or am I just trapped in a fragrance commercial?
I walk down my front steps toward my car. The earth beneath me begins to quake. The ground cracks like ice on a frozen pond. From one of these cracks erupts a plume of lava in the shape of a beautiful, genderless woodnymph. The woodnymph lurches at me as I get in my car and slam the door. Hands shaky, I start the ignition.
Suddenly, I’m not in my car. I’m in a nightclub with chandeliers made of onyx and men dressed in leather dancing in wrought iron cages. Amidst the dark throng of people, there is one shining, shimmering light. As I make my way towards it, I see that it’s Lady Gaga. She is dressed like a murderous turtle dove. She moves her mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a sound that could only be described as the voice of God screaming at me in French. I feel a tap on my shoulder. I startle and turn around. It’s Johnny Depp again. He’s covered in blood. I ask him whose blood it is. He shrugs, and then walks over and starts making out with Lady Gaga.
In my panic, I sprint to the bathroom, find an empty stall, and close the door. Now that I’m in the bathroom, I decide to go to the bathroom, because if this is, in fact, the apocalypse, I’m not going to know when will be the next time I get to relieve myself. I flush. As the water swirls in the bowl, I notice something. It’s actually coming up. It begins overflowing.
Suddenly, I’m completely underwater, hundreds of feet below the surface of a vacant sea. I can’t breathe. From the shadowy abyss, emerges a mermaid – or merman, rather – who takes my mouth and blows air into my lungs. Even though the water is cloudy, I’m almost positive the merman is Jake Gyllenhaal. His abs look incredible.
I awake on the shore of an unknown beach, wet and coughing. The sky is still radiating an ominous orange. I hear the screeching of crows. Wait. No. That’s the screeching of car tires. I whip my head around to see my car on the beachside highway. Knowing this is my only chance to get to safety, I run up the beach as fast as my legs can carry me. I get in on the passenger side, breathing heavily. I look to my left. In the driver’s seat is Johnny Depp, somehow even bloodier than before.
He leans over, kisses me on the cheek, and whispers into my ear…
“Sauvage, by Dior.”
