"Good evening, and Welcome to Earth News 7 at 9. I am newsborg Annika Hansen," An elegantly featured blonde woman sat coolly behind a chrome desk, hands neatly crossed on the luminescent surface. Her alluring face, void of any discerning expression, was adorned with two unobtrusive metallic implants; one a small and star shaped vocal amplicator positioned just below her left ear, and the other lining her right brow, projecting a small holographic teleprompter that obscured her eyeball with a cloudy blue film.

"A-and I'm A-arsical B-barms-sweller." A stocky English man sat next to her looking as though he was about to shit the proverbial brick. His mane of greasy black ringlets was dripping with sweat and melted aquanet and his voice trembling. "O-oh God. I-I think-k I-I'm g-g-g-ggoing to be ss---"

"You're illness is irrelevant." Annika Hansen looked sharply at her counterpart. "Your job is to present the news. Do so." She continued to stare at him, expecting a reply.

Arsical Barmsweller would not have replied, even if his mouth had not occupied by half-digested Eggs Benedict.

With an indulgent sigh, newsborg Annika Hansen spoke. "Today at approximately 0800 hours, Emperor Longdong WongHoo, leader of the Evangelical Unionized Democratic Moderate Leftist Yet Somewhat Conservative Communistic South-Asian Dictatorial Nudist Facists State, located 35° to the North West of the South Eastern tip of West Korea, surprised most of Earth today by launching an archaic biomedial subatomic photon torpedo. The torpedo, originally intended to obliterate the West Eastern Coast of the United States, annihilated a small colony inhabited by highly evolved penguins somewhere in the middle of Antarctica. According to a spokes person for the EUDMLYSCCSADNFS, the instructions for the archaic biomedial subatomic photon torpedo were in English, and not their native language of Asianese, leading to an extreme translation error causing the sore miscalculation. For the last three hours, the UN has been desperately trying to convince the irate colony of penguins not to retaliate, but as of now the prognosis is grim.”

“O-oh God.” Arsical Barmsweller was crying. He looked pitifully up at his co-anchor, a partially macerated piece of bacon stuck to his lip. “W-we’re all g-g-going t-to d-d-d-dah ahahahaa”

Annika Hansen did not look amused. “Your death is irrelevant. Report the news or be silent.” She blinked at him for a moment longer, making sure he was not going to do his job, before exhaling audibly and beginning again, “It is estimated that the nuclear power of the highly advanced colony of penguins is enough to destroy Earth 483.4 times. The probability of a human surviving a retaliation attack of that magnitude is approximately 38,489,398,681 to 1, and the only biological beings expected to survive are cockroaches. However, all semi-biological and non-biological beings, including borgbots, are expected to survive.” She said this with a hint of satisfaction, glancing briefly and the whimpering man beside her.

“On an up note, only 95 percent of Earth’s population is expected to perish. In previous preparation for such an event, a small fleet of 300 ships was prepared to quickly evacuate roughly 25,000 of Earth’s most important people. Unfortunately, after several years of petitioning and endless whining, the United Group of Friendly Chums convinced the UN to choose survivors not by contributions to society, but rather by picking names out of a gigantic top hat.” She paused and scanned her teleprompter. “The choosing will commence in 3 minutes. In the meantime, enjoy these words from our wonderful sponsors.”

A hazy blue beam erupted from Janeway’s holoprojector, rendering her immobile and forcing her to view an advertisement for Caretaker’s Cherry Flavour Suppositories. She mentally bit her lip and wondered what she was going to do. She read somewhere that laying in the bath tub and burying her head would protect her from anything, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t.

As the slogan, “Gynaecological ailments galore? Then come on down to the Suppository Store!” flashed through her mind, she wondered about her life. She was a semi-successful airship pilot. In truth, she didn’t particularly care for the flying part. She mostly liked being called Captain Janeway and getting to bang stewardesses, and she really liked it when the stewardesses cried out ‘Captain! Oh, Captain Janeway!’ as they were coming. She had a decent, stable life. Until now, at least. She wondered if she had any sand.

“Good evening and welcome back to Earth news 7 at 9, this is newsborg Annika Hansen reporting. Incase you’ve just tuned in, due to a somewhat comical mishap, Earth is on the brink of destruction by a very unhappy group of flightless aquatic birds.” She gave a well-practiced false smile. “The drawing of names out of a gigantic top hat has just begun. If you look to the bottom of your screen, the names chosen for the ship designated to your local area will appear. If you are chosen, please calmly and efficiently pack ONE bag of necessities, and quietly wait. You will be beamed aboard the rescue ship in a safe, efficient manner. Comply with previous instructions.” Annika Hansen averted her gaze from the main camera to the man at her right.

“M-mommy, I-I l-l-oooove you.” Arsical Barmsweller was beginning to undress.

“Your mother is irrelevant. Remain clothed and report the news.” She glared at him.

Arsical Barmsweller removed his shirt, exposing his flabby English tits. His chest was covered in hair not unlike the greasy ringlets adorning his head. “I-I’m going to d-die.” He was no longer crying at this point. He stood and pulled his pants off and let out a loud gurgling belch. “W-we’re all going to d-ah-iiie.”

Annika Hansen was not very amused. “Remain clothed,” she ordered, “You are infantile, inefficient, and utterly human. Remain clothed!”

Arsical Barmsweller did not remain dressed, and Annika Hansen was now not amused at all.

K. Janeway did not see the nude Englishman or Annika Hansen’s retribution. She was stunned, staring at the bottom of the screen as her name quickly flashed along the edge in neon blue letters. She quickly lept from the couch, more in an attempt to avert another commercial rather than uncontrolled excitement.

She was chosen? She was mildly perturbed to think that she hadn’t even considered that she would be chosen. She had simply assumed she was going to die and began pondering clever ways to bury her head. But now…Now she had a whole new, exciting life ahead of her. She wondered why she didn’t care more.

She changed out of her pajamas and slipped into her uniform. A black tailored jacket with three gold bands around the cuffs, littered with various medals and insignia that were more for show than any sort of rank indication, matching black pants and heavy leather dress boots. Topping it all off was a stiff, official looking hat that bore a small brass eagle with the Earth in its talons. She liked the hat the best.