Apparently, Qupar has decided that he is above the system and is in no way required to post as the schedule demands. As Reogan-in-Chief (Not to be confused with Met-in-Chief, another prestigious position), I need to create filler. Why should you care? Because I had just begun to write the next chapter of the Apocalypse when I discovered this. I first intended to just write it anyway and post it here to make up for the error. However, that would reward Qupar for his sloth. I don't reward sloth. Instead, I turn to a random sentence generator, and build a story from that. Every italicized sentence is randomly generated. The tenses have been edited to fit.
Why couldn't the red bush wait? The green one had no problem standing in line. Yet the red bush insisted on shoving its way to the front, paying no attention to the order of things. I yelled at it to stop. I knew it displeased the Vicar to see such exuberance in the court. Yet despite my warning - almost as if to spite my warning - the bush reached the front, and entangled the Vice-Telemarketer's hand with a root. The man was pulled to the ground, and began to fight back. The struggle foamed. The battle was obscured for but a moment when the foam became awash with the saffron blood of the Telemarketer. From his tower, the Vicar frowned. He made a gesture, and an inertia appeared on the field. The red bush was left defenseless as the other bushes fled. Two consultants swarmed from the toadstools. The first consultant bound the bush. The latter consultant inflicted the inertia. Newton wept, as the bush, no longer in motion, remained in that state, for no outside force affected it again. He wept for thermodynamics, and he wept for all bushes. Does every race script a keen pedantry? It would seem thus.
You can all thank Qupar for preventing me from posting two Apocalypses this week.