Supergeddon: A Really Big Geddon (The Upturned Table Parody Series)

Darkness fell swiftly on Tetra. It wasn't anything special. It was just night. But it was dark. Stars were sneaking in and out of a couple desert clouds. The bullhorn slept, and s'moring had begun around a few thousand campfires. But there was one tent, the tent where the leaders met, that had no campfire in front of it. Nor was anyone inside it. At least not anyone other than Randy Jarvis, the Antichrist. He had been laid on the table in the middle of the tent for examination by the leaders. When they had all been convinced that he was actully the Antichrist, and Buford had been reprimanded for makng him slip at the pool, the Antichrist had been shoved into a large plastic bag and left on the table.

That plastic bag, full of evil, on the table, in the middle of the tent, now stirred. Was it a breeze? Was it some evil thing come with the darkness? Something was afoot. The bag now did more that stir. It jerked and lurched, it quaked and snapped, but there was no wind in the tent. Then the bag fell off the table on to the fake sheep skin rug and stopped. But not for long. It wasn't jerking now, it was expanding, stretching, growing thinner. A tear opened at the top and out came four fingers, followed by a hand. Then another hand. Both were followed by arms. A head emerged, slowly and painfully, wrapped in cloth. Before long the entire body crawled its way out, a body wearing nothing but its own flesh and a red Speedo.

"Mother?" it said. "Mother, are you there?" And then, exhaused, it collapsed into a deep sleep.