WASHINGTON, D.C.—On Inauguration Day, four very special guests were in attendance. You might think it was the current and former presidents and first ladies, but you would be wrong. In actuality, the four horsemen of the apocalypse are always in attendance during America’s most noble rite that represents the peaceful transfer of power from one administration to the next. They are always present in order to get acquainted with their newest associate in bringing about the downfall of society, both nationally and globally. In January, the four caballeros of calamity acquired seats even closer to the front than past years.
This year, the most noble guests arrived mid-ceremony, shuffling past politicians and celebrities to get to their seats. Several White House aides overheard their chitter-chatter during the swearing-in, claiming an alleged argument had broken out between the four.
Their lateness, and therefore a most certain delay in the forthcoming apocalypse, according to the two horsewomen of the doomful band, was due to the stubbornness of their male counterparts. The group had become lost on their way to the ceremony, caused by a number of reasons that all traced back to the horseman in charge of the map. Anticipating a lack of suitable stables anywhere on Capitol Hill, the group agreed to leave their fallow steeds tied off and take the metro into town. However, having boarded the wrong line several times and failing to notice when their stop had passed, the navigator of the group also refused to stop and ask for directions. The leader of the pestilent posse continued to insist that he “had been there plenty of times before” and would “figure it out eventually,” if given enough time. His female counterparts rolled their sunken eyes for probably the 100th time.
As a result of these miscalculations, the horsemen accidentally brought devastation upon a large number of attendees on their way to the inauguration. It is believed now that this was a key reason for the smaller crowd than past years. The four became even more confused leaving their hotel the following day, getting caught in the Women’s March, though the horsewomen certainly appreciated it.
Since that time, some have reported seeing the horsemen wandering the streets attempting to find a reasonably-priced coffee shop, quarreling about stopping to ask a police officer.
“Filthy mortals probably don’t even drink their coffee ultra-shadow-starvation-plague-black,” the lead wraith rider was heard saying. “You can’t trust people like that. The 2012 apocalypse will be another five years late before I ask where I’m going.”