by Gunter Chang

Created on: November 12, 2009   Last Updated: July 27, 2010

Second Horseman of The Apocalypse Holds Press Conference


In an occurrence of cosmic proportions, The Second Horseman of The Apocalypse held a rare news conference at his secluded estate today, warning that the Apocalypse Alert level may have to be raised.  As expected, most journalists had no idea there WAS any such thing as an Apocalypse Alert as they rushed to post their latest story on the antics of Miley Cyrus, or Lindsay Lohan and headed to the coordinates indicated. Arriving early, and talking animatedly among themselves, they finally saw the dust rising in the distance and prepared for a fearsome spectacle on horseback.  Instead, arriving in a red Mustang convertible matching his solid red ensemble, the Second Horseman of the Apocalypse waved to the crowd cheerfully, turned off the vehicle and stepped out.

Initially approaching with a large, dangerous looking sword in hand, the Horseman created a brief panic before noting, "Oops, sorry, I forgot how jumpy you people are." He idly tossed the sword into the backseat and smiled.  Well, it looked like a smile. It was rather hard to tell given the fact that his head was a mere fleshless skull. Adjusting his red tie, the Horseman put on a pair of red reading glasses and began reading from what appeared to be a prepared statement.  "I've been asked by the other Horsemen to alert you that it may be necessary to elevate The Apocalypse Alert level in the coming weeks to Florescent Orange," he announced. "That is all, now get the hell out of here!"  

As the slack-jawed journalists stared in surprise at not only the brevity of the conference but the uncanny quickness with which the Horseman jumped back into his vehicle, one voice rang out from the cacophony of the multitude. "Sir, I have a question.” Clearly irritated, the Horseman paused for a split second, then resumed starting up the car. He slammed it into gear but it was too late. Before he could completely drive away, he was bombarded with questions from the frenzied press who were over their initial shock. The clearly irritated Horseman turned off the engine and exited the vehicle. He pointed a bony finger towards the reporter who'd thwarted his clean getaway and barked, "OK, you....what?"

"Mr. Horseman, " the journalist began hesitantly.
"Just call me War" the Horseman interrupted impatiently.
"Uh...OK, Mr. War," he resumed only to be cut off by the Horseman once again.
"Not MISTER War...just WAR..."
"Well...War...isn't

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