Well that’s not good.

To catch you up, my name is Jill. I am your average teenaged girl, so I don’t exaclty know how I ended up in the my own wrecked house with the knowledge that my parents are spies.

Looking back, it might not have been a good idea to attempt to hack into a secretive USB file that I found lying on the kitchen counter…

… but in my defense, that thing was just asking to get broken into.

It had some descriptive stuff about kill codes and had, like, a bunch if symbols. ‘Supposed to be really important stuff, I guess. Next thing I know some weirdo came through the window and tried to wrestle it out of my hands, like, hello? Rude, much?

I ended up throwing the drive into the garbage disposal and glared spitefully as I turned it on full blast. He didn’t like it, kidnapped me for ransom or something, then my parents come get me cause they’re spies or whatever, some intense stuff happened during the escape, and here I am.

My parents left just a little bit ago after I told them I memorized the different symbols and letters on the file, kind of leaving me here. I mean, they weren’t that complicated and I have long learned how to memorize those types of things to pass exams.

I honestly don’t know what to do at this point, standing in the middle of my ruined home while the radio is still going. It was soft instrumental stuff that my mom always puts on making the entire scene super ironic.

“Ok, this is what we need to do!”

I jumped when my best friend was suddenly bursting through the door with a large black duffle bag slung kver her shoulder.

“Uh… what?”

She rolled her eyes and shoved the bag into my arms, “you remember the codes in that drive because you are still on a study high from midterms. That means you are in danger.”

I scoffed, “in danger of boring myself by remembering multiple x’s in a row?”

She looked me in the eye, clearly not amused, “in danger of a secret organization dead set on destroying the entire world with atomic weapons that can only be disabled with those ‘multiple x’s in a row’. We need to leave, and you need to relay those codes so that we can use them to put a stop to the utter destruction.”

Hmm… thats difficult.

“Okay…” I start, dragging out the last syllable, “but, and hear me out, what if we did it… tomorrow?”

She looked at me. She just looked at me, as if i was a first grade question on the highschool finals. “You… CAN’T be serious”.

I shrug, “I don’t know. I’m pretty tired, and- uh… i have a bunch if homework to do so…”

She shakes her head violently, “wha- We BOTH know you aren’t going to work on homework! You are a CHRONICH procrastinat- oh, no… Oh. No.”

“What? I do my homework! Plus, atomic weapons sound like a lot of work, and a lot of work takes a lot of time! I can wait a few days!”

She just keeps shaking her head, with the added effect of a maniacal laughter bursting from her throat, “God, this is the worst possible time for you to be you”.

Ouch

“Okay, this isn’t going to do. Jill, you are going with me. You have no choice in this matter, and it can’t be put off. I am taking you to the bunker where you will write down the codes you remember and hand them off to one of our agents. If you don’t, you will have to input the codes yourself. Considering how dangerous it is, this is NOT something to procrastinate!” She was getting hysterical at this point. It was kind if funny, and I would have toltally teased her if it didnt seem like she would punch me in the throat for something like that.

“Okay! Yeah, I’ll go with you. Don’t need to be so pushy…”

I couldn’t even take a step before she grabbed my arm and pulled me along as if she was afraid I would change my mind last second. Which, by the way, is totally rude! I’m not THAT bad!

She drags me into the back of a van (not creepy at all) and tells the driver to step on it. Like, seriously? I thought we had time! It’s not like I’m procrastinating when I’m literally STUCK IN A VAN!

The entire ride is silent as she looks at me like I’m a child in need of supervision. Of course, I start to feel sleepy about 10 minutes in since I have nothing else to do. I am very thankful that Bestie decides to leave me alone as I doze off.

I am NOT very thankful when I am literally yanked awake by her pulling me by the arm out of my seat. Unfortubately my legs didn’t figure out in time that it was their cue to shine. I took a few minutes to peel my face off of the floor of the van, all while hearing my best friend shoutibg various combinations of “the world is at stake” and “we are running out of time” and “faceplanting is no excuse”. I mean, she never actually said that last one, but it was heavily implied.

She starts dragging me again when I finally stand up. I am too exhausted to actually pay attention to where we are going, but had enough brain power to realize and underground bunker when I saw one.

“Okay. We are here. Now sit down”, she shoves me into the closest chair, “and write down those damn codes!” She slams a piece of paper and a pen on the table.

“Ummm… I’m pretty tired…. Do you think i could rake a nap first?” It is a genuine concern that i might pass out at this rate. My body didn’t wake up correctly, and now feels like it needs a second chance.

By her face, I’m guessing she was not ammused. Which, okay I get it, but I wasn’t joking in the first place.

“You need to sit and write. If I could stay here and supervise you the entire time, I would. Unfortunately, I have other things to attend to, so PLEASE! PLEASE Jill, just write the damn codes!” She finishes with a dramatic flair before inching out of the room, her eyes on me.

I pick up the pencil, and she sighs before closing the door behind her.

I drop the pencil.

“I have time” I can’t help but mutter under my breath. Hence begins the waiting game.

I don’t know how long it’s been when my best friend bursts through the door.

“JILL! PLEASE tell me you got it done!”

I only blink. It hadn’t been THAT long. I was almost going to do it before she interupted my though process… probably.

I saw her face reden so quick she could have been mistaken for a traffic light. “Jill…”

I throw my hands up in a quick, but flimsy defense, “Wait! I WAS going to do it! I swear I was! You just broke my concentration!”

Jill release a sigh heavy enough to start weighing my shoulders down. I WAS going to do it.

“You’ve been left along for 12 hours, now.”

….

What?

“Oh…”

She rolled her eyes, “yeah, and now we’re out of time. You will come with us to the base we discovered and will disarm the weapon. You will have a team of eight men to protect you, but we can’t help you navigate the technology because we don’t have the codes. I’ll let you think on why that is.”

“Whoa, woah, woah, wait! I can’t do somethin like that! I can barely make my own breakfast in the morning without breaking the toaster! THE TOASTER! If you leave this in my hands, everyone’s going to die!” I don’t know if my voice is yelling or screaming, but its loud. You can’t blame me, though, this was pretty sudden and nervewracking. Not to mention how I perform under pressure… Stage fright is a real disease.

“Yeah, well, we don’t have much of a choice right now! Get up and get moving before we miss our chance!” And suddenly I am practically being manhandled by my best friend to my death. For some reason it sounds more reasonable that I would think.

Everything turns very fast-paced too quickly. I swear I get whiplash from the force that pushes me back into the van where I can just barely recognize a group of robots before the van peels off and speed that are probably bot healthy for the human body.

The van twists and turns through the maze of streets before it stops abruptly and I fly forward because of stupid Newton and his stupid laws.

I am tugged out if the van and pushed to an unassuming building by my best friend as a circle of heavily armed guys (not robots) surround me while somehow marching in pace with each other.

I was expecting some evil dude in a chair or a group of identical goons but instead it was an empty room with my parents staring at me with hopeful eyes.

“Uh…. Hi?”

They completely ignore me and turn all of their attention on my best friend, “Well? Did she do it?”

All it took was a shake of her head before my parents deflate and look at me with dull eyes.

“What? I thought I had a second chance with the code things! I’m going to put them in myself with my best friend and her army’s protection!” I don’t know why I was trying so hard to defend myself, I just know I do NOT like that look on their faces.

They kind of kept standing there before my dad waves his hand and all of the armed people start leaving. One of them stops before the door and turns back, “so… are we getting payed through PayPal, or…?”

My mom just shakes her head, “just wait outside. We need to have a talk with our daughter first.”

One nod and then it is just us four in the room.

“Jill, you have a problem.”

It was such a simple statement that packed a huge punch. My mother just said what people have been telling me for a while, but it had never been her before.

I only nodded because my throat is too tight to make any legible sound.

Dad steps forward to put his hand on my shoulder, “we have tried so hard to get you to realize how dangerous this procrastination will be for you. It just never clicks”.

And then it clicked (ha). “Wait, this was all staged? The USB! The underground base! My best friend’s badassness!”

“Nope, that parts real”, Bestie quickly interjects.

Mom shrugged, “well yeah. We got a call from your school and you passed your finals by a hair. It was a close call considering you will be living on your own soon in this world.”

I was at a loss of words. Then ⟊ heard a snicker.

“Hold on, Jill” my best friend started, “did you just refer to me as your best friend?”

“Uh…. Yeah? ‘Cause you’re my best friend…?”

She covered her mouth with one hand and a sparkle in her eye, “I know. What’s my name, Jill?”

Shit.

The control room had been evacuated. Jill had heard the evacuation warnings blaring through the sound system at The Global Protection Agency but had thought “Probably just a drill.” She hadn’t investigated further.

She was focused on her research work that had been due the previous day and wanted to submit her findings as she had found much of her work under the scrutiny of the head scientist- under scrutiny! Can you believe it! - Her - Dr Jill Maynard PhD research scientist runner up to the Nobel prize - and all for being a bit late in providing her research findings…. Well quite a bit late really but nevermind that. You can’t rush genius!

Jill grew tired of the research work in front of her and thought a coffee was in order. She meandered over to the kitchen. It was quiet. Too quiet. Maybe the others were still outside lining up for the roll call.

Coffee in hand, she went back to her desk. She minimised the research on her computer and started playing a game collecting tokens and matching icons.

Jill didn’t bother passing by where the main control panel was situated. She would have seen the screen with the huge meteor coming towards earth and she would have immediately known to push the oversized red button. But instead she had no inkling of her imminent death. She and the rest of life on earth died instantly.

Welcome! You are on earth, in the year of 3098! Nice vacation choice—water, rolling green hills, cool modern cities, even air—you can take that space helmet off. What a beautiful planet!

Unfortunately, we have a problem. Crazy robots have figured out how to alter climate change into a physical manifestation. They are multiplying them by the thousands in their secret lair and soon will unleash them on the earth, spreading snowstorms of -60 degrees (Fahrenheit) in Mexico and +1678 degrees (also Fahrenheit) in Antarctica. Maybe not so great for the atmosphere.

With the doomsday clock counting down to one day, we zoom in on our hero, JOE ASSBURY. He is currently sitting in his living room.

Hello, Joe? That’s your cue to jump up, turn off that dumb wheel of fortune show, and show your muscles in a heroic pose!

No?

Sigh…

Anyway, Joe is sixteen. He is like, Albert Einstein, if Einstein struggled with procrastination and tv binge watching. He could solve the whole problem thing if he wasn’t so lazy. Shoulda been named tv-lover, if he didn’t have a girlfriend already.

In fact, Shelly is probably why he moves at all. She gets him off that couch and doing stuff. And sometimes he has fun, besides the kissing.

Anyhow, it’s 24 hours to the end of the world, and Shelly barges in to get her genius couch potato. She knows that he can figure it out if he tears himself away from that tv.

“Ok,” she announces. “You are going to solve this problem, and save the world.” He blinks. “And what if I don’t?” “Then we all die.” He considers this for a moment. “Will there be tv in death?” She thinks. “Uh… I don’t know.” “Then no.” “Please?” she begs. “Save the world and I’ll kiss you!” “Maybe next week.” “If you do it now I’ll take you to Burger King!” He shakes his head. “And I’ll pay for it!” He considers. Nods slowly. “Sold.” She sighs with relief. “Good. Let’s get started.” “Sure. Soon.” He looks at her with those cute blue eyes. “But…can I finish my show first?” She sighs. It’s hard to say no when he gets like that. “Sure.” She hands him the remote. “Can’t believe I’m bribing my boyfriend to save the world.”

———————

An hour later, Shelly snatched the remote out of Joe’s hand.

“Hey!” he protested.

She looked at him, brown eyes blazing, hands on her hips. “23 hours, Joe. Now move your potato of a butt and tell me how to save the world.”

He looked at her in confusion. “What’s the situation, again?”

She sighed. “These robots went crazy and figured out how to make physical manifestations of climate change. They took them out of the air, leaving the atmosphere perfect, but they are planning to release them as big bozos to mess up the climate so much that the planet’s population will be destroyed.” He thought about it, then snapped his fingers. “Easy. Disable the robots, find out how they made the ‘big bozos’. Reverse the process and destroy it. Add some other calculations and I could make it vanish completely. But where is this base located?” Shelly’s eyes glinted. “No one else would know this, but the location is so obvious. We need to get to Antarctica.” Grinning, Joe hopped of the couch. “Lemme change. I’ll meet you outside. We’ve got some stuff to do.” Shelly smiled. “And then—Burger King. Kisses.” “Not necessarily in that order.” She playfully whacked him. “Are you asking for a kiss right away?” He grinned. “Sure.” She kissed him. “It’s agreed. When you save the world, I will kiss you.” A few minutes later, they were out the door to Antarctica—just two normal teens on a date.

“Ughhh, I KNOW mom, I’m gonna do it!”

That was my go to response as a kid, no matter what the thing was my parents wanted me to do.

I’m sure they thought I’d grow out of it, but no such luck. I’ve still never met a deadline I couldn’t procrastinate on. I don’t even start eating the eggs in my refrigerator until just a couple of days before they expire.

If I hadn’t been born with a really good head for math, my procrastination issues would likely have me living in my parents’ basement, and I’m 45.

Instead, I’m kind of a rock star in the world of mathematical physics; a rock star who leaves everyone who counts on me to get thing done on time - my students, my editors, the college registrar, my husband - especially my husband - constantly frustrated.

But when you’re a “genius” everyone cuts you a lot of slack - “oh, he can’t be distracted by mundane things like getting grades in on time “ - everyone, that is, except your husband. He knows you’re just lazy and has no interest in excuses.

Today started out no differently than any other day. I was late to class, had to apologize to Steven for not paying the cable bill on time, the usual. Then my cell phone began chirping out the tune for Rocket Man. It was Cynthia, my boss at NASA. I teach full time at the college, but NASA is my side hustle. Cynthia is apparently being punished for some horrendous faux pas at work by having to try to wrangle me into line.

“Frank, got a minute?” It wasn’t really a question. I was going to have a minute, or 30 minutes, whatever Cynthia needed. “Of course, what can I do for you?”

“Have you been watching Star Gazer’s tik tok channel?”

“Are you serious, I only watch makeup tutorials on Tik Tok” I said with as much arrogant sarcasm as I could muster.

“Shut up Frank” said Cynthia, rightly annoyed, “this is serious. Star Gazer has been posting that he’s calculated the trajectory of the CX8906 asteroid and he thinks it is headed straight for earth. He’s projecting a direct hit in less than 100 days.”

I started laughing. “You mean to tell me that NASA is relying on Tik Tokers to find out the world is about to be blasted back to the ice age by an asteroid?!! Remind me not to sign up to fly on any ship you all design.”

She ignored my juvenile quips - I’m only a genius when it comes math; in all other respects I’m in 11th grade.

“That’s why I’m calling you. No one on our team can replicate Star Gazer’s calculations, but we don’t want to take any chances.”

“So you prefer the current plan, that humanity is wiped off the face of the earth by slowly boiling itself, like a crab in a pot?” I poked.

“Let’s argue the benefits of a quick death versus climate change another day. We need you to run the numbers and tell us if Star Gazer has it right. Can you do it?” Cynthia asked, even though it wasn’t really a question.

“I’ll do my best. You said they are projecting we have less than 100 days?”

“Yes, so we need this right away if we have any hope of diverting CX8906 from its course. Humanity is counting on you” Cynthia added for good measure, presumably worried that I’d manage to procrastinate even on this deadline.

“If humanity is betting on me meeting a deadline, I wouldn’t put my money on humanity.” I said, only half kidding.

She was right to worry. I don’t know where the time went, but I remember thinking what were the chances some kid on Tik Tok was accurately predicting the end of the earth when no one at NASA saw it coming.

Cynthia called numerous times as the days counted down - multiple times a day as the deadline to launch an intercept mission drew closer. Eventually I sent her calls straight to voicemail because I was tired of being badgered.

I set my an auto reply to any emails and text messages she sent me. A simple “I’ll get to it.”

Unfortunately, I didn’t. Stephen and I held hands as we watched the newscast. We were past the point of him yelling at me about causing humanity’s destruction.

“I’ve got plenty of time,” I thought as I snapped my laptop shut. “The algorithm is done,” I called to Suzanna. “Once I upload it, we’ll be in the clear!” Relief flooded my whole body. I felt practically euphoric.

“Fabulous!” Suzanna plopped onto the couch. “I’m so relieved! I mean, just think, this time tomorrow everything could have been over.” She sat very still, contemplating the weight of those words.

“But, it won’t be. We did it, and we did it in record time. Twenty-four hours to spare. It’ll patch the code, the missiles won’t launch, and no one will know that anything was going to happen. Everyone will just go about their day.” I collapsed on the couch next to Suzanna, wrapping her thin hand inside my own.

“Is the algorithm uploading now?” She turned her head to look for the open laptop.

“No. I decided to wait. I’ve got to eat something. I’m starving. I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast yesterday. Why don’t we take a break, go downtown to that little Greek place you like, and then we’ll come home and upload it?” I lean in to kiss my wife’s forehead.

“Well, I’m not sure…” she says, looking back at the laptop. “I’d feel better if it was done.”

“Oh, come on. Let’s go celebrate! We’ve got 24 hours to get that thing up, and it’ll take literally seconds to upload.” I grab her hand and pull her up. “Don’t be such a worrier.”

She sighed. “Okay, I guess. You win. Let me grab my purse.” She gazed anxiously at the laptop behind us.

“Just leave it. I’ve got my wallet. Let’s get down there and back, and we’ll upload before bed.”

We rushed out the apartment, my wife locking the door behind us. We walked downtown, and thirtt minutes later, we were celebrating over gyros and hummus. I felt carefree and light, knowing we were going to be alright. Everything was saved. My wife still seemed nervous and tense. “Why are you still so uptight?” I grab her hand. “It’s over. We’re saved!”

She looked me directly in the eyes. “It’s not over until you’ve uploaded it. The missiles are still going to launch in,” she glanced at her watch, “twenty-two hours.”

“We’re fine!” I said. Suzanna has always been anxious. She just doesn’t know when to relax.

“I think you’re being careless. It’s not over until it’s over. We need to go back NOW and finish it.” She stood up. “Pay our bill and let’s head home.”

“What if I don’t want to head home? I’ve been working for days on this. I’m tired, and I want to celebrate.”

“You are insane.” She snarled at me. “I’d go home and do it myself, but I left my purse. Give me your keys, and I’ll head home. You can stay here and celebrate all you want.” Her tone was less than genuine. I’m not great at reading subtext, but I was pretty sure she did not want me to stay.

“Fine. Here…” I reach into my pockets, but the keys aren’t there. “Um…” I stuttered as I reaches into the other pocket. “My keys. I think I left them in the apartment.”

“Are you freakin kidding me, Stephen?” She angrily whisper-yelled at me, the people at the tables turning to look at her. “We need to go. NOW.” She grabbed her phone. “I’m calling the apartment manager to open our door. And if I can’t get him, a locksmith.”

She stormed out of the restaurant. I couldn’t believe how out of line she was. I thought that maybe we should talk about her going to counseling for her anxiety. I’d wait to bring it up, but it’d probably be really good for her.

I paid our bill and headed out front to meet her.

“I need your phone. Mine died.” I reach in my pocket and realize I don’t have mine either.

“Well…” I started with an irresistibly charming smile.

“Stephen!” She yelled. A frustrated, guttural growl escaped her lips.

“Chill out!”

“No.” She pulled her curly, black hair up into a bun using the scrunchy on her wrist. “I will NOT chill out. Look where ‘chilling out’ has got us.” She turned to leave, but whipped back around to look at me again. “You have a PROBLEM!”

“Me?” I couldn’t believe she thought I was the problem. “ME? You are the one yelling on street. People are staring at you.” I quiet my voice. “Are you on your period?”

I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a more rage-filled look than what she gave me at that moment. She didn’t speak another word and began jogging down the street toward our apartment.

I didn’t want to go home. I needed to at some point, but not now. That’s what she wanted. I wasn’t going to let her win. There was still plenty of time to upload the algorithm.

I spotted an arcade across the street and went in. It was styled exactly like an arcade from the 80’s. Seriously the coolest place I’d ever been in. Every old game I remembered from my childhood was there. This was the perfect way to blow off steam before heading back home.

I’m not sure how long I was there before I decided to head home. I was no longer angry. I was tired though, so I walked slowly toward my apartment. I realized I was starving, again. Hadn’t I just eaten a few hours ago?

I popped into an all-night diner a block from our house and ordered waffles. They had the best waffles ever. Jenny was our regular waitress, and she knew my order before I even placed it. As usual, the waffles were unbelievable. They settled in my stomach and made he exhausted. Before I knew what had happened, I laid my head on the table and fell asleep.

Sometime later, Suzanna was standing over me. “Stephen! Where have you been? I’ve been look in everywhere!” Confusion and terror filled my entire body. What had I done? What was I thinking? If I don’t get home, there’s going to be a nuclear apocalypse!

The waitress was standing next to Suzanna. “He was so tired, I thought he wasn’t hurting anyone by taking a cat nap in the booth. No one ever comes in at 3am.”

“Stephen,” Suzanna began. “It’s 9am. We have six hours to get the algorithm online. The locksmith wouldn’t open our apartment since I didn’t have my ID.” Her voice sounded exhausted and tears began streaming down her face. “You’ve got get the locksmith to come, with your ID. I’ll try to get the apartment manager to come. He should be in by now.”

“Hey,” I began, feeling panic for the time during this entire mess. “I’m sorry I got us into this. I was out of line last night. I don’t like feeling pressure, and it was overwhelming. I needed to get out.”

“You are not forgiven, but I can’t talk about this now. We’ve got to hurry. I’m scared.”

I threw a $20 on the table and followed my wife out the door. I ran to the locksmith shop. The man was out at another job, but they promised he’d meet us next. My wife had no luck at the apartment manager. Apparently, he was running late.

So, we waited, trying to pick the lock ourselves. At 11am, the locksmith finally came. In a matter of minutes, the lock was opened. Four more hours until detonation.

Almost instantaneously, the power went out in our apartment. Another rolling blackout. The fifth one this month. We froze, paralyzed and stunned. Both our phones were dead, even hers which had been left at home. So, we quickly grabbed the laptop and bolted out the door.

“I don’t know what to do,” I called to her behind me.

“I think I have an idea,” she called back.

When we reached the street, she hailed a taxi, and we jumped in. “Take us to the nearest hospital!” she asked. The taxi sped off.

“Hospital? I don’t understand,” I say, barely able to speak at this point.

“Hospitals have back up generators. They’ll have internet, if they still have power running to those systems. Let’s pray they do.”

It took over 30 minutes to reach the hospital. We were down to three hours. We pay the taxi driver extra to park out front and let us try to access the internet from outside the building. No luck, the WiFi was down.

The taxi driver drives toward another hospital, in a part of town that, we realized, still had power. He dropped us off at a coffee shop with free WiFi. We raced to a booth, opened the laptop, and I began uploading the algorithm. The internet was sluggish. Something that would have taken moments at our own apartment was taking over an hour.

Our hearts pounded. With only an hour left, I wasn’t sure we’d have time to try something else if this didn’t work. We sat, silently watching the progress bar slowly move forward. I could only heart my pulse. My wife and I gripped hands tightly.

“If this doesn’t work, I would kill you,” my wife said, only sort of joking. “But we’ll all be dead anyway.”

I can’t speak. I can’t move. I can barely breathe. I can only watch the screen.

The time remaining on the process bar ticks down, slowly. I can see the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes remained until doomsday. Twenty minutes remaining on the progress bar. The time between the two etch closer and closer together, as the internet moves at a snails pace.

Finally, the progress bar finishes and the upload is complete. Five more minutes remain on the doomsday clock.

“Did it work?” my wife whispers.

“I guess we’ll find out in five minutes.”

Those were literally the most painful minutes of my life. When the clock reached time, nothing happened. Everything looked normal. People kept talking, sipping coffee, working on their computers.

We both started laughing in relief. Our laughter got louder and louder as people began to stare. We were both hit with a wave of exhaustion. Neither of had slept in what felt like a week, except, for you know, the nap at the diner.

“Let’s go home and go to bed,” I say, standing up from the booth. My arms and legs hurt from the tension I’ve been carrying.

“Please. I’m so tired,” she says as she stands up next to me. “But, hey, I really think you need therapy. Like a lot.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll call about that tomorrow,” I say, and we walk out the coffee shop together, hand in hand.

Once upon a time, in a world not too dissimilar from our own, the impending doom of an asteroid hurtling towards Earth had the entire planet in a frenzy. Panic, chaos, and uncertainty reigned supreme, as people desperately sought a hero to save them from their impending demise. Little did they know that their savior was about to face a bizarre predicament of his own.

Meet Harold, an ordinary guy with extraordinary procrastination skills. While everyone else was scrambling to find solutions, Harold was lounging on his couch, engrossed in a gripping TV series marathon. Blissfully unaware of the impending catastrophe, he was procrastinating like a champion.

As the clock ticked closer to doomsday, the world's leaders reached out to Harold, hoping he possessed the power to stop the cataclysmic event. Reluctantly, Harold tore his gaze away from the TV screen and, with a sigh, decided to heed the call.

Armed with a brilliant mind and sheer laziness, Harold began formulating a plan to save the world. He spent hours daydreaming about fantastic devices and impossible scenarios. However, as soon as he began to implement his ideas, the allure of procrastination struck again. Harold found himself getting distracted by the smallest of tasks—organizing his sock drawer, alphabetizing his book collection, even reorganizing his pantry by color.

Weeks turned into days, and days turned into hours. The world's fate hung in the balance, but Harold's inability to resist the call of procrastination was relentless. He knew he had to act, but there was always something more enticing to do—a new recipe to try, a puppy video compilation to watch, or simply the temptation to take a nap.

As the final minutes approached, Harold, with a mixture of guilt and determination, abandoned his procrastinating ways. He focused all his energy on implementing a last-ditch plan, hoping against hope that it would work. But alas, time was not on his side.

The asteroid made its grand entrance, hurtling towards Earth with a menacing glow. The world held its breath, expecting the worst. And then, in a twist of fate, the asteroid missed Earth by a hair's breadth, grazing the atmosphere and harmlessly continuing its journey into the void of space. The world was saved, but Harold had missed his chance to be the hero.

With a sheepish grin, Harold returned to his couch, ready to immerse himself once more in his beloved TV series. As the world celebrated their unexpected survival, they couldn't help but chuckle at the story of the hero who couldn't help but procrastinate, leaving fate to play its hand.

“But I love you, Charles!” the woman pleaded, tears running down her face.

“Veronica… you can’t.” The man said, turning away from her.

“Why not?!”

“I am your twin brother.”

Jacob gasped from his couch and then paused the TV to assimilate what was going on. Charles was her brother? No way… but now that he thought about it they did look eerily similar. He then started to remember the little things that had happened throughout the show, how Charles didn’t have a mom but she did. How Veronica said her mom told her once that her father was dead, and so was Charles’. Now it made more sense. Jacob took a deep breath, braced himself for what was about to come and just as he was about to resume his show the telephone rang for the tenth time that day. Jacob groaned and got up from the couch to get more veggie snacks. He opened the top counter as the voice message started.

“Sir, please. It’s Carl calling. Again.” Jacob rolled his eyes. “We need you in here. The meteorite has almost entered the mesosphere!”

Seriously?! The mesosphere?! Jacob picked up the phone.

“Carl?” he said in the calmest voice he could manage.

“Sir! Thank goodness. I…”

“Don’t call me again unless it entered the stratosphere.”

“What? But, sir…”

Jacob hung up the phone and sighed, massaging his right temple. Every single day at work was so uneventful it almost gave him physical pain. But suddenly, today of all days the world wants to end. Why did it have to be on his day off? No. Even worse. It had to end on the same day the final episode of his favorite soap opera aired. He took his bowl with veggie snacks and repeated his positive affirmations in low voice as he made his way to the couch.

“I am calm, I am light, I am love.”

When he sat down, Jacob had reached a high level of peacefulness. He had to put himself first, his therapist would agree… but she did tell him rather often that he needed to work on his procrastination. She told him that to find motivation to do things, he needed to reward himself. Alright, it was settled. He would go to stop the damn meteorite from crashing on Earth or whatever, but first he needed to motivate himself. Jacob made a mental list. First he would finish his soap opera, of course. How could he focus on saving the world if he was thinking about Charles and Veronica? No, a distraction like that would be dangerous. He wasn’t so irresponsible. Second, he would stop the meteorite. And third, he would fire Carl. Yes, that sounded about right. And so, Jacob resumed his show as he munched on a veggie snack.

You know I never really had the urge to stand up in front of a group or thousands to millions of people, like I am quite a introverted person, I don't even really like to talk to people I am really close to I mostly just talk to them through eye contact. But a few days ago I found out that the world is coming to an end if we don't do something about it. And how did I find out about this? You may ask, well when i was simply digging in the woods, like all people do from time to time, I found a bomb that was set to blow up in about three weeks time, there are a few of these bombs around the world. These bombs have the ability to blow up the entire world to smithereens. So I did what any sain person would do I dropped the bomb and ran screaming. In a manly manner of course. As soon as i got home I went to bed and told my self I would deal with the end of the world tomorrow. The next day came and I totally forgot, I have work to do, I can't possibly save the world today or the next day or the day after that because I have important stuff planned like hangin out with my self, that is like the only time I can hangout and relax with just me. The next few days were also just to important so I just couldn't do it. And then finally one day my close friend asked "yo bro what's up with ya? Because you look like you got something on your mind." So I told him what I found out and what I got to do. "What? wait really? Well when are you going to announce that to everyone?" So I replied" At some point, preferably before their world ends." "well, you better do it soon." But before I knew it "BOOM!" I guess I just never had enough time to tell everyone. Oh well. I mean I guess the bright side is, now I don't have to say anything, the bombs have said it for me.

Mom: “SON! What are you doing?! You have to do your laundry!!” Ben: “I’m playing this totally addictive game so why don’t you go do the laundry?!” Mom: “Son-“ Ben: “THANKS MOM!!” Mom: sighs in frustration and goes downstairs to see the sky has turned green like in his game! Mom: SCREAMING “Son!! Look outside!!!” Ben: unsure of why his mom won’t say his name looks to see the green sky Mom: Why is the sky green?! Ben: “Oh it’s just my video game! It has taken over the world, but I know how to stop it because I’ve beaten all the levels!” An alarm clock appears in sky showing Ben had one hour to save the world Mom: Go Son!! You got this!! hides in closet Ben: thinking: why does she call me son?! It’s a mystery. I should probably figure it out! I mean I could ask her but… eh I don’t feel like just getting the answer today. Let’s think! The alarm clock blares to reveal that he had 45 minutes left. Ben: thinks more: ugh I can’t think of a good reason! Playing video games help me think. plays the video game that is currently taking over the world 25 minutes later Mom: “SON have you won?!” Ben: “Mom you just rhymed!” Mom: “Wasn’t intended! What’s your status?!” Ben: thinking: oh shoot, I haven’t beaten that game yet! I have no time! Eh it’s fine, I’m sure the demons will give me a couple extra minutes!! Ben: “I’ve got it covered!!” Ben plays, he beats level one and two but then a gorgeous girl comes in his way… Gorgeous Girl: let’s date ;) Ben: yes please!! So they go on a date in the middle of the End Of The World and they talk and talk and talk and purposely “forget to leave” Another man ends up saving the world while Ben gets named The Worst Video Game Player Ever. Mom: “Now you have to do the laundry” Ben: “K fine” Mom: whispers: my evil plan worked… god bless procrastination :)