The year is 3021. Nude Gingrich has been elected president of the Galaxy. (You already know this! You already know this.)
“Regis Weekend is cancelled, forever,” says Nude in his inaugural address. “It’s the future and you can never leave the future.”
“Why come I can’t celebrate Regis Weekend” bemoans Chris Christie X, famous celebrity of the future, seconds before he is obliterated by an orbital cannon for questioning Nude Gingrich.
“Hello,” says Charlize Theron vampishly, still looking great after all these years.
The Future Is So Bright, I’ve Got To Wear Shades, And Nothing Else, Because I Am Nude, Which Is The Law, Here In The Bright Future
Betty Boop: 3021 reboot in production hell.
“Food is illegal. Water is illegal. Take off your clothes” says Galactic President to ten billion humans and human-equivalent-motorized-analogue-neohumans (H.E.M.A.N.s)
“Today is the day Nude became President,” says Danish House DJ W.O.L.F.F.B.L.I.T.Z.E.R.R.R.R.R.R.
“Why I have always hated clothes,” the most shared article on the homepage of the future’s New New New York Times, seconds before it is obliterated by an orbital cannon (mistakenly as it was supporting Nude Gingrich).
“Check out my biceps,” says Nude, in space, to God (God lives there).
Terrifying? You bet. But that (the above) is the future. One POSSIBLE future. Anything can happen. Are you a Calvinist? Do you believe in predestination? When we tell you that Regis Weekend has been extended through Tuesday, October 3 (it has been), what will you do?
Can you bring him back?
Can you change the future?
