The World was scheduled to end in 3 hours and Max and Fender sat in an empty cafe drinking tea. “Tell me again why we aren’t evacuating?” said Max.

“I told you,” replied Fender. “I’m scared of flying. Much too dangerous.”

“Oh, OK,” said Max not wanting to press the issue. It seemed to Max that sitting on a planet marked for annihilation was slightly more risky than air travel, but he didn’t want to argue with his mentor. “I guess ol’ Tex shouldn’t have made that bet.”

“Who would’ve predicted we could lose the World Series to the Gum’Bnds?” replied Fender. “We invented baseball. The whole thing was ruined anyhow when they started letting planets with non-humanoid inhabitants play. Who could find the strike-zone on a squid, anyhow?”

“You suppose they have baseball in the afterlife?” said Max, staring despondently at his drink. “I think I’ll miss that most. Well, that and cupcakes. Oh, and those tiny, little..”

“Finish up,” interrupted Fender gesturing toward his companion’s cup. “I have a plan.”