When Internet Beef Blew Up The World

On the morning the PM shot the nuke to blow away the final continent, there were no alerts. He made sure of it. With no “news” anymore, just feeds, every feed could be traced to the Master board, where users got their info and assignments for the day. 

Users reacted to the feed in one of two ways: HYPER AGREE or ANGRY ATTACK. The week prior had been righteous for the people because the 12 Justice Armies had won the top prize: a million likes for going viral. It was peak hashtag rebel goals and so hating on it was just frivolous, you know? 

The PM looked to muffle freedom fighter noise — going viral during Suppression was unheard of — by issuing from his page a moving image of a baby splattering food on to a cat. The caption: “case of the Mondays” had been auto-generated from the data audit 1000 Most Popular EmoReactz.

It really made him angry when people didn’t understand his love for The Account. Especially when they didn’t HYPER AGREE on the posts. He had maintained an all-time mediocre Like Rating among PMs in the history of the poll. At worst, his hours-long live streams from clear plastic bathtub, filmed while he raised his selfie pod out of the water, switching hands when his chunky triceps burned from holding up his arms, were inoffensive shouts

Same thing for the nightly Go Kart tournaments between him and opposing party leaders: mostly harmless. Winner questioned his dignity. One live stream, recorded after his fatal defeat of a rival nation’s despot¹, showed his button dickhead breaking the grimy tub water line after he had fallen asleep with the broadcast still going, revealing the presidential gonads glubbing underwater to the hum of teary-eye Reactz.

¹The PM cut him off at the finish line, where the elevated roadway veered into a sand dune. The stunned driver shot out of his car, and slammed into the dune head-first, snapping his brain stem.

The next morning, the PM sent his condolences, an apology post, and then checked Total Likes. (No movement, fuck.)

Out of nowhere, that account’s co-holder and brother of the man he killed started posting the PM sex tape snippets to his Vanish page. And even though only Vanish members can screen-rip Vanish posts for the first 15 seconds, SO MANY VANNIES screen-ripped it that soon the entire tape had been re-composed, made into a hologram, and copied by 3D printer. Users wanted to see what could push the PM’s button besides, you know, everything.

USER5A8& was the first to notice and HYPER AGREE with the PM rage rant that would soon cancel us. We witnessed the following exchange on the Master board before it went to shit: 

PM: Typical sadboy move from goons over at Data Dump. tape-shaming me WOW. made all sex vids legal TERRA-WEEKS AGO. NO MORE LEAKS! 

DICTATOR’S BROTHER: PM big mood = big mad? #AnybodyCanGetIt

PM: Won’t do #PettyWars, banned in 2310. Will say this: Ppl with ur last name hv NOT had good luck against me friend. Stay in ur lane friend. 

DICTATOR’S BROTHER: See me IRL!! Tag location @ CountCoin Summit!! Will hv them clappers ready. It’s whatev

PM: *posts slideshow*

Slide 1: Data Dump pictured on map of world

Slide 2: PM’s finger over a DELETE key

Slide 3: Data Dump gone from map

Slide 4: That meme of the kids over-reacting to dope bars in a battle. 

At this point, we’re code red. The IRL Escalation Act Of 2290 stated that if posts from nation heads contained the term “IRL” mid-conflict, we were all *SHRUG* *FML*. The PM had so irked his opponent that now war encroached. The head goon’s bio read “no long talk / just hands / clapback exquisite.” He instinctively pulled in his stomach as he pressed the red dot to stream, and announced that stray warheads would crack off in all directions starting midnight. He stressed that his “anybody could get it” policy was dead ass, no exceptions. 

When the PM had big decisions, he often jumped into an indoor lagoon he had built that was 200 feet deep and only 20 in diameter. Swimming allowed him to survey his thoughts and avoid raging. But his ire crept up on him this time, especially when he read that “IRL.” That’s when he had his brilliant idea, knowing too many clapbacks would seem weak in comparison, he vowed irreversible damage. He was ready for that action, depleted global land mass or not. 

So by 8AM, at the urging of his followers, the PM conducted a poll about whether to clap this fool. The HYPER AGREE count broke Jitter.com in minutes. 

When the visitors shoveled the remains, they found the final warhead. And in small letters on the tip of the missile’s lethal nose it read: “AT ME BRO!”