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The scene is this:
You are in front of your computer emailing a mate. The 3 minute warning goes off and you have 3 minutes - 180 seconds - to write your message.
Time yourself, and dont cheat because otherwise it's pointless.
Strictly limit yourself to 3 minutes exactly, when that 3 minutes is up, stop writing even if it's mid sentence.
You were writing to your mate to express your fears at the escalating conflict around the world.
3 minutes exactly.
Go
> It's a hypothetical situation, it's made up, sheesh.
>
> And it's a good idea too Goaty, shame not too many people are taking
> it all that seriously
I wasn't mocking the idea of the original topic, I've already had a serious attempt to reply to that. My point about not spending the last three mins of your life writing an email any way is a reply to IB's comment about how we'd all write something different if it really happened. I should have made this clearer.
> And they DO exist. You know what type I'm talking about - big black
> ones, the size of cats, with razor sharp yellow teeth and red eyes
> dripping with malice.
Have you read 'Domain' by any chance? It's a James Herbert horror novel set in London in the aftermath of a nuclear fallout. It has a rather strong focus on those sorts of rats.
> Would you really spend the last three minutes of your life writing an
> email though? Especially with no garuantee that anyone would ever
> recieve it - think how much of an overload all phone lines would have
> once the three minute warning was heard...
It's a hypothetical situation, it's made up, sheesh.
And it's a good idea too Goaty, shame not too many people are taking it all that seriously
The end of our worries,
the end of our fears,
the end of all our pain and suffering
But friend, remember this.
Through life, we survived together, we struggled through this all, but now, it's being taken away as if it were nothing.
Goodbye dear friend, and, until we meet again....
OK, I failed miserably...
> The sagacious one wrote:
>
> cockraoches and mutant rats.
>
> Don't mention this to Unbeliever
Too late scumbags. That's why I'd rather die in a post-nuclear environment. I dread to think about the field day the rats would have.
And they DO exist. You know what type I'm talking about - big black ones, the size of cats, with razor sharp yellow teeth and red eyes dripping with malice.
*swivels on chair*
HEY!
> cockraoches and mutant rats.
Don't mention this to Unbeliever