>*Faded background noise* Tic toc tic toc tic toc
*eyes closed, meditating* Hmmmmmmm.. It's coming.
>*louder* Tic toc tic toc tic toc
*opens his eyes* Oh, hi Juve. I didn't notice you from up here. Here, come; listen to this.
>TIC TOC TIC TOC TIC TOC
You hear? Yes? What does it say, on the clock? Yes, it does say "17".
Oh you want to know what it is? Ehe.
It is the clock of your impending doom, old woman. 17 days from now. 418 hours. 24000 seconds. 16 sleepy-sleepy.
You will be gone. Erased. Wiped from the collective mind of mankind.
17 days from now, straight from Cardiff, you will hear a clamor; vibrant, powerful. Crystal clear. Beautiful as it if was sung by an angel. TSUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU.
17 days from now we will make Caporetto looks like a children's playground. The Plague? Like a sneeze. Before you realise what's happening, the ground will shake. An earthquake so strong it will make the L’Aquila earthquake looks like a fat guy jumping. From the retirement home you call a stadium to your famed "Pizza San Carlo", everything will be destroyed, shattered. Annihilated. Hidden forever from the Sun under a pile of rumbles. A country, forever gone.
From a death rate of 92.2 per 10,000, we will make it 92.2%.
So, do you like that clock, Juve? No? I didn't think so. But you can't avoid it. It is the unshakable, cold truth of our reality. You have to accept it. The White Death is coming.
So close your eyes, Juve. Lay down on the floor. You will see, death is but a beginning.
But you think you can resist us, hm? Best defense in the world, la?
What happens when an unstoppable force meets an old lady? You'll find out soon enough.