The four horsemen of the apocalypse are War, Pestilence, Famine and finally Death. But before they arrive someone else rides out, not on horses, not on ships, but on motorized scooters and mopeds.
I'm of course speaking about the delivery people of the apocalypse. Those Humans that ride out on one final mission as stars flicker and oceans boil. The harbingers of a planet's destruction. The last knock on the door. The final parcel. And no, they will not come back at a more convenient time.
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There was a moment when Prim Limtan of the Kultizar people thought that everything was going to be alright. He had just watched from his couch as the news anchor informed a worried world that their new renewable power source had come online without a hitch. There would be no more scarcity. No more resource wars. Finally his people could be at peace.
Then the pizza delivery people started showing up. They didn't ask questions. They didn't request money. They just pressed a greasy flimsy cardboard box or two into his hands with rough efficiency then vanished from existence in a flash of blue sparks.
Their visits seemed to be increasing in frequency. At first there had been a few minutes between deliveries but now it was a constant stream. The pizza boxes had reached the ceiling, teetering back and forth as they had begun to collapse underneath their own greasy weight. And Prim Limtan was beginning to worry.
Not about the arrival of the pizzas. That was definitely odd, no doubt about it. But what really concerned Prim Limtan was the fact that it had gone from night to day in the course of a few minutes. There was a gently glowing orb on the horizon that could have been mistaken for the sun if it weren't rising in the wrong direction. The fact that it was also blood red was another clue that something very bad was happening.
"Looks like your bog standard apocalypse." The human observed as he handed over a pizza box and vanished. Prim Limtan held the greasy cardboard in shaky hands and gawked open mouthed at the rising ball of red light.
Another identical human appeared moments later. He tried to hand over the pizza but Prim Limtan dodged backwards. The pizza delivery man pursued him into the house with grim determination. "One extra hot cheese with anchovies." He said as he walked slowly and relentlessly toward the panicked Kultizar.
"I didn't order that…" Prim Limtan said as he did his best to stay out of reach. From what he had gathered the delivery people vanished as soon as their mission was complete. If he wanted answers he was going to have to get creative. "Who are you people and what's going on?"
A second delivery man had appeared in the doorway. He was holding a slip of paper and a guilty expression. The first human used this momentary distraction to tag Prim Limtan with the corner of the box and vanish. The pizza fell to the ground with a wet thump.
The Kultizar lunged at the newcomer with the strange piece of red and white paper. His multiple sets of arms flailed wildly as he charged. The human tried to stick the paper to the door with a loop of tape but Prim Limtan intercepted it and grabbed the human by the scruff of the neck.
"We're sorry we missed you." Prim Limtan read aloud. "Your package is on its way back to the post office."
The human snatched the paper back and slapped it onto the door before vanishing into a cloud of blue sparks. "Mother fucker!" Prim Limtan swore.
"That's the Royal Mail for you." Observed a greasy haired woman on a motorized scooter as she lit a cigarette. "Don't worry, they'll be back tomorrow."
"What the fuck is going on?" Prim Limtan demanded. "Why are all of these humans showing up with pizzas? And who the fuck are you?"
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The human sighed and flicked her cigarette into the street before retrieving a small insulated bag from the box on the back of her scooter. "The apocalypse. Someone ordered pizza. And I'm Claire." She answered.
"But I didn't order anything!" Prim Limtan shouted.
Claire sighed and lit another cigarette. "Look, I don't like this either. I'm just doing this gig to pay for school." She rummaged around in the bag and retrieved a can of soda, which she then drank right there in front of him.
"Are you allowed to do that?" Prim Limtan asked.
"Do what?" Claire replied as she tossed the empty can into the bushes. "Look, I'm sure all of this is very confusing for you but it's really quite simple. Your world is ending. Therefore all the food that was ordered must be delivered."
She began to rummage in the bag until she found a golden brown morsel. "Mmm… samosas." Claire murmured happily as she took a bite. "There's even some mango chutney. You can't go wrong with mango chutney."
"But I didn't order anything!" The enraged and frightened Kultizar shrieked.
"Well you didn't order an apocalypse either. Yet there it is." She pointed at the dull red glow, which had started to dim. Somehow the rapidly fading light was even more frightening. That meant whatever had happened couldn't be stopped because it was already finished.
"Where did the pizza guys go?" Prim Limtan asked with a shiver as he felt the night air beginning to grow cold again.
Claire looked at her phone. "The thirty minutes are up. That means there is no point in delivering anything if they're not going to get paid for it. I actually marked your order as delivered already so I'm really just killing time before I go too."
"But who ordered all of the food?" Prim Limtan asked. He really should have been more focused on his impending doom but this was something he could control, or at least attempt to.
Claire seemed to take pity on the Kultizar so she explained as best she could about quantum cloning, the perils of accidentally ordering food while stoned, and how a joke had gotten out of hand.
Apparently one of the major pizza companies had decided to make it possible to schedule pizza deliveries in advance. This had numerous advantages for the company as it allowed them to manage their time and resources more wisely. However the programmer who designed their app had included an Easter egg.
Pizzas could be ordered up to a year in advance. But if you entered a date that was out of the acceptable range it would ask you if you wanted to have it delivered at the end of the world instead. What the programmer had not predicted was the sheer amount of customers that would click yes as a joke. Or by accident. This had gone on unnoticed for decades as millions of stoned customers ordered pizzas for the apocalypse and promptly forgot about them.
But since it was a valid order and payment had been accepted the company had decided that instead of refunding the customers, which they were loath to do, instead why not just deliver the pizzas? They could keep the money and if anyone cancelled their order before the apocalypse they could collect the cancellation fees instead. It was a win-win.
Of course, that would mean they would have to deliver all of those pizzas should the worst actually happen. The logistics of which were mind boggling. But where there's a will and a complete lack of empathy there's a way. At least that's what the company slogan said, so quantum clones had been made of all the delivery staff. And as an added bonus, clones didn't have to be paid for return time because once their purpose was fulfilled they would vanish as if they had never existed.
So the pizzas were made, given to the cloned staff, then both delivery person and pizza were locked in a time bubble to be unleashed if and when the apocalypse arrived. This was made much easier by the fact that pizza existed in a state of quantum flux anyway, being both on time and hours late, cold or hot, wrong and correct.
Only by opening the box could you collapse the waveform and see for yourself if it was pepperoni and sausage like you had ordered, or banana and celery with vegan cheese.
"So you see." Claire said as she finished her samosa. "It all makes perfect sense if you're a complete idiot. Now, I should get moving before the shockwave hits." She handed over the half eaten bag of takeout and mounted her scooter.
"Shouldn't you disappear into a cloud of sparks?" Prim Limtan asked.
"Sparks cost extra. Besides, I'm not a quantum clone, I'm just three hours late." Claire told him as she sped away, scratching the side of his car with a metal foot peg as she went.
He looked at the label on the bag. "This isn't even the right address…" Prim Limtan muttered to himself as he returned to his house, climbed over the half collapsed tower of pizza boxes and settled down on the couch. According to the news everything was fine. There was nothing to worry about. The test had been a success.
"Liar." He told the screen as he dipped a piece of garlic naan into his chicken curry. "Liar. Liar. Liar."