The old man stood on the corner of the street. He was dressed in a nice suit and held a Bible in his hand. He implored each passerby to listen to his words. With hands raised skyward he shouted his gospel to anyone who would listen, and even those who would not.
Several people began to gather around the man. He spoke of an impending doom. The prophecy was written and would be carried out as the apocalypse drew ever near.
Some laughed at the self-proclaimed teller of the future. Others listened as if they were hearing the gospel itself. He spoke as if he was convinced in the finality of it all. Those who had stayed to listen were in awe of him.
The police came to take the man away for disturbing the peace. The crowd fought the police. They didn’t trust the police of the government. They felt they were being lied to and they wanted very much to believe the old man. Most feared the worst about the sickness and this man was giving them what they wanted: a reason to be fearful.
A riot ensued and the police were overwhelmed. The crowd hurried the man away and kept him protected. They would not tolerate any injury to their newly found prophet. The new apostles of the end times believed it was God’s will all should die, or at least all those who they deemed wicked.