Well, it finally came. It has been 999 days since the legendary one-eyed Albino Pennsylvania Pants Python has slithered into the hot, steamy burrow of its native habitat. Indeed, many people even doubt that it exists. There have been only a handful of eye witnesses that have seen it in all of its glory, and those can be aptly described as psychos. The only photograph known to exist has vanished from the public record and the Grand Canyon was determined to have been made by water erosion, NOT by the Pants Python sliding by. It seems that the tale of the Pennsylvania Pants Python has fallen into the morass of competing, and inevitably untrue, messianic claims of other weiners matching the power of the Pennsylvania Pants Python.
But I know it's real! You may call me crazy, or a liar, or a typical guy, but I know that the Pennsylvania Pants Python exists because I have a special communion with it. It speaks to me sometimes, saying, "Hey, check out that chick!" and stuff like that. In fact, it draws upon my very lifeblood when it manifests itself, usually once in the morning and then whenever there's some naked chick on TV.
People say to me, if you have such a special bond with the Pants Python, why don't you just summon it for all to see?
Well, it's not that simple. The Mighty Pennsylvania Pants Python does not manifest itself at the mere beck and call of any man. It only does so at the call of a hot chick! Furthermore, it has shown reluctance to reveal itself to more than one person at a time (the only known exception is the Falls Incident in '97). Why this is, I don't know. Perhaps it is something that one simply must have faith in.
But this is moot! For the day has come, as told in the Book of Revelations that when the 1,000th* day of celibacy, the Pants Python from the land of Pennsylvania will have great difficulty looking for reasons to live. It's in there somewhere. Look for it.
This will be a time of turbulance and plague. The population of the Earth will be decimated and plunged back into a dark age for a million years. Porn will be no more, and nobody will feel like gettin' it on. Flowers will die, candy will sour, and everything will turn to a shade of gray. The mighty Nads of the Python will explode and burn a third of the Earth.
Granted that's a worse case scenario, but a possibility.
REPENT SINNERS! You have ONE MORE DAY to prepare for the reckoning! All shall perish in a storm of fire and semen! At the very least, I'll be depressed and listless, but be ready for the end of the world!
* Some scholars say that the text reads 10,000 days, but what do they know?