Book of Revelations, Chapter 6 (Revised 2026)

And when the trumpets sounded, behold, the lamb opened the first four seals, letting forth four horsemen upon the world of man. The first horse, signifying War, was adorned with golden, ill-fitting hair. He was recognized immediately as the great protector of Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone 2 and as a ’90s rap euphemism for wealth.

“You’re fired!” proclaimed the first horse. “Remember me? That was kind of my catchphrase in the early aughts.” He then remarked on the beauty of his daughters, thus bumming the vibe for all who heard.

And a second horse then approached, signifying Famine. The horse spoke thusly, with a gravelly voice, similar to his father’s, but lacking in charisma and clarity, “We’re going to end the war on red meat and bring back measles,” he said, clothed in the finest jeans and flanked by the sixth most popular nu metal artist of 1998. “The only cure for whooping cough is cod liver,” he proclaimed, dragging the carcass of a mighty, dead bear behind him.

The horse then filmed a video of himself doing biceps curls, interspersed with clips of the original Top Gun, which was naturally posted on the account of a major government agency.

A third horse galloped in from the horizon, signifying Conquest. The horse was completely bald and carrying a podcast microphone.

“Archangel Gabriel,” I asked the holy protector, “is that not the host of the second iteration of The Man Show?”

“Yes,” the angel answered, “he was also on that reality show that made people eat bull testicles. I think he’s involved in MMA somehow, too, but I’m always too tired to watch when it comes on TV.”

“And Archangel Gabriel, this is the man that conquers humanity?” I asked, puzzled by this great revelation.

The angel did not speak, but pointed back to the third horse, and then I saw he was ridden by a great South African King named Elon, saluting like the Romans, but winking at me in a way that was totally gross.

“Listen, subjects,” the King shouted, “comedy is legal again.”

I then asked King Elon to tell me a joke so that I could participate in this new, legal comedy. The King then became nervous and, unable to speak, summoned an army of five thousand virgins who subsequently called me “gay” and “not an alpha.”

Finally, as the trumpets began to sound again, the fourth horse appeared, signifying Death. His name was Hegseth, and he was marked by the Iron Cross. He began to speak but, having taken the left turn much too quickly, crashed into a ditch. A great avalanche of White Claw seltzers thus scattered from his saddle, as the horse blamed his accident on the woke left.

I then addressed the Archangel Gabriel, “Great protector of God, the end times… are they… are they really this fucking stupid?”

“Oh, Apostle John,” he responded, “it’s far worse. We didn’t even get to Obama’s tan suit.”