Famine, War, and Death, the three horsemen of the apocalypse, would rather be working. Instead, they sit around and wait, just like they’ve been doing for hundreds of years. They’re also trying to backfill the position of the Fourth Horseman. Then, once a few seals get broken, they can do what they were created to do: Fuck. Shit. Up.
There used to be four horsemen, but Conquest was relieved of all duties about 80 years ago. His dismissal was officially reported as a budgetary reduction in force, but everyone knows that’s just a cover-up.
All the waiting around finally made old Conquest snap one day. He marched right into the boss’s office screaming, “What are you waiting for? Do it already! Fuckin’ rend the seals or toot the horns or whatever! I’m ready to ride, motherfu…!”
In a flash, the boss unleashed a backhanded bitch-slap of such biblical proportions that it sounded like a cannonball shattering a celestial bell. Conquest tucked his tail, packed his bags, and left without even doing an exit interview. There’s always been tension simmering under the surface between them. A lot of us know Conquest is jealous because the boss has his own white horse, which is far larger and more handsome than his.
Shenanigans was eventually brought on to fill the vacancy because he was available and cheap. He never really fit in though. War picked on him relentlessly after he said he couldn’t ride a horse due to having ‘tender haunches.’ When we got him a tricked-out Segway, all he wanted to know was how long the apocalypse may last because his bone spurs will hurt if he doesn’t get frequent breaks. During training, the only things he excelled at were making the coffee go cold and knocking the WiFi offline. Amateur shit, really.
Things got particularly uncomfortable when Shenanigans got drunk at the boss’s birthday party and tried to get in Famine’s pants. Hard to blame him, Famine is a perfect, paradoxical 10. He’s fiercely angular and sharp-looking, but he’s as soft as a whisper from a lover’s lips once you get to know him. Death, who has always had a thing for Famine, was consumed with rage over the matter.
Death went full berserker mode on Shenanigans after that party. It was brutal. When he was done, all that was left was a soupy blob on the ground that the janitorial staff had to scoop up. Famine was flattered to be rescued by Death. Everyone knows they’ve been having an affair ever since; it was impossible to hide once their twins Fragility and Misogyny were born. Cute kids, always finishing each other’s manifestos.
Meanwhile, Conquest has been hiding out in America. I know because Nationalism and Exceptionalism told me in a recent postcard they sent me from Minnesota. They’ve been vacationing in America ever since Manifest Destiny was all the rage. Apparently, they’ve been doing a little freelancing with Conquest to pass the time. They took turns driving an RV to Washington one January and failed to conquer a small building there. In any case, Nationalism has seen his socials skyrocket among young white males.
Conquest was later spotted in a Texas suburb rallying a group of moms he met in a hot yoga class. They’re trying to get some books banned and they’re using our boss as an excuse. Disinformation texted me yesterday to say Conquest started a podcast. I wasn’t sure I could trust him until I found it online. He calls it “The White Horse Power Hour” and most of the time he’s just interviewing billionaires, shitting on trans kids, and running ads for some bookseller. Pitiful, really, watching a world conqueror stoop to human levels.
Until Conquest snaps out of it and comes home, we need to fill his old spot. Apathy and Complicity came for interviews last week and nobody really cared one way or another. Delusion and Gaslighting are coming in next week and we could not be more excited. They have impressive CVs, and their earlier work in Salem and Spain has been nothing short of inspirational to many of us here in the Apocalypse department. If all goes well, one of them will be a great fit, and we’ll all be galloping your way in no time!