Precisely one year ago, scientists came to a new conclusion: that the Earth wasn’t round. It never had been. We had been wrong and 17th century Catholics had been right from the start.
All of a sudden, as if awaiting this realization, freighters and airplanes began to lose their bearings and slip into space, tumbling into a dark abyss that humanity had previously thought to have found meaning in. Satellites drifted away.
Mountains suddenly became thousands of miles tall, dwarfing everything around them. Water from the oceans began exponentially trickling off the edges.
Globes were smashed and maps were hailed.
Environmentalists began constructing boundaries to keep the water on Earth, and construction businesses boomed. Rich people started buying property near the middle of the vast expanse, where the temperatures were hot and constant, and the real estate industry boomed.
Global citizens at the edges threw out their scales, claiming that the scales were over-reporting their weight, and the fitness industry went bankrupt. Miners drilled through the crust and plummeted into nothingness, and mining companies went bankrupt.
The moon was an illusion too. After all, how could a flatland facilitate the orbit of a sphere? The revelation of these facts affected the tides, and more importantly, the Earth’s pathway around the Sun. We were hors d’oeuvres, waiting to be gobbled up. Still, in the chaos, petty arguments prevailed.
Conspiracy theories began to emerge; some claimed the Earth was round, and were thrown off the edge. Some claimed that math and kinetic theories were still valid, and were thrown off the edge. A silly man who nagged too much was thrown off the edge. Clowns, wasps, tomatoes, detritus, all off the edge.
The underside of the Earth, though, was dark, cold and inhospitable. It was widely feared; freezing temperatures and the lack of vegetation made it inhabitable for the overwhelming majority of life. Yet some stubborn and repulsive creatures still crawled out of the void. Enter Donald Trump.