I told everyone I could about the Final Countdown. In a way, it's a fitting conclusion to this project. It started with the survivors pondering their survival. Now it will end with them contemplating their end.

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Lila

So everybody was like, "Lila! Did you hear? The world might end at dawn!" And I'm all, "Sorry, but that so doesn't work for me."

Seriously, I'm supposed to be up at dawn? Like, what am I, a farmer? I see no reason why, if the robots are going to destroy the world, they can't do it at a reasonable hour.

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Lucas

When Mr. Rubicon told me about the Robot Countdown, I decided that the time had come to man up and just ask Stephanie out.

After all, I had literally nothing to lose. If she rejected me, so what? I certainly wouldn't feel any worse than I already did.

It was only when she rejected me that I realized that wasn't true. At all.

But it started out well. I told Stephanie that I wanted to spend the night with her. And I had the perfect words: "We are star-stuff. We are the Universe, made manifest, trying to figure itself out."

"Wow, Lucas," she said. "That was beautiful.."

"Thank you. It's from Babylon 5."

"Yes, I know. 'A Distant Star.' Season 2, Episode 4."

"So what do you say?"

From the look on her face, I knew what she was going to say before she said it.

"I'm sorry, Lucas, but I already agreed to have a three-some with Tyler tonight."

"I see."

"Well, it was gonna be a three-some, but a whole bunch of other people wanted to join us, so I think we're up to a seven-some now."

"I think anything after three is just an orgy."

"I guess. So... anyway... enjoy your night."

And I headed back to my room to spend what might be my last night on Earth having a sad one-some. I figured I'd use my non-dominant hand. Try to make it special.

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Dottie & Wilbur

Dottie: Were we worried when we learned we might die before morning? Ha! You know what people our age call that? Best-case scenario!

Wilbur: I am ready to meet my Maker any time. Just bury me next to my sweetheart in a whites-only cemetery and I'll be happy.

Dottie: [pats his knee] I know you will, cutie boots! But... there's something I need to tell you...

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Kenny Lee

Believe it or not I've never been drunk.

Although I did have a middle-ear infection one summer. I walked into things and fell down a lot. Wound up getting this scar when I fell on a rusty metal rake, but I've been telling women that I got it in a motorcycle crash. They're usually impressed.

When life gives you tetanus, make tetanus-ade.

Anyway, the Summer of the Rake-Face was the closest I've come. Not sure why, exactly. I always figured I'd get drunk at some point. I suppose I was waiting for the right occasion. I guess it's like losing your virginity; the longer you wait, the more pressure there is for it to mean something. You don't hold off for thirty years and then say, "Fuck it, I'm going to throw one into the Denny's waitress with the unibrow and just get it over with."

But I was facing the end of the world. And if I was going to get hammered, there was never going to be a better occasion than that.

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Dougal

OK, so Kevin and I had until sunrise to give Baby Question Mark a name. You know, just in case the world ended. But no pressure! LOL!

And I had an idea right off the bat: Angel!

How perfect is that? It works for every gender and orientation! Plus, sometimes, the baby is like an angel! Granted, it's also sometimes like Satan... but wasn't Satan also an angel? I'm actually asking. I'm pretty sure they covered this in church, but I never paid attention. LOL!

Anyway, Kevin wasn't into it. "Nah. That's boring. I am sure we can come up with something better."

With that in mind, please enjoy this partial list of the baby names Kevin rejected:

Jesse?

No.

Parker?

No.

Sparkle?

No.

Bling?

No.

Frosting?

No.

Shindig?

No.

Hydrangea?

No.

L. Ron Hubbard?

What?

Just wanted to make sure you were listening. Merlot?

No.

Cloudy?

No.

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Banyan

You know what? When I heard the news, I didn't give a shit.

Not. One. Shit.

I mean, why should I care?

I tried to prevent the robots from destroying humanity and everyone thought I was a jerk.

I tried to help the robots destroy humanity and everyone thought I was a jerk.

Then I tried to warn everybody about letting machines decide our fate and they thought I was a jerk.

And then everybody started freaking out because — whaddaya ya know? the robots were deciding our fate! — and everybody still thought I was a jerk!

Fuck all y'all. I'm done.

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Kenny

I had been invited to a party, but that was the last place I wanted to be. For once, I was going to be alone, in the quiet, with my thoughts and a bottle of Bulgarian Rakia.

Which was not my first choice of alcoholic beverage, obviously. But unfortunately, by this point in the Robot Apocalypse, pretty much all of the good alcohol had been drunk or blown up by robots in giant blue fireballs.

Besides, I was drinking for effect. So good was not as important as potent.

I poured myself a glass. Here goes nothing.

"Nazhtrovia," I said to the empty room. It was a Belarusian toast: "to your health."

I took a big gulp and almost spit it back out. It tasted like prune-flavored disinfectant and burned my throat. Holy shit, was it awful!

But if I was going to get drunk, I needed to have a lot more. I figured that the second swallow wouldn't be as painful as the first.

I was wrong.

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Supreme Lord High Galactic Overlord Russell

Sewing is hard.

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Dougal

So we made a new rule: Kevin wasn't allowed to reject stuff without giving me a reason.

Harper?

Too stuffy.

Amethyst?

Too pole-dancery.

Crouton?

Too salady.

Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate?

Too Dr. Seuss-y.

Irregardless?

Too not-a-real-wordy.

Pepsi®?

Too-not-as-good-as-Coke®-y.

Coke®?

Too associated with Bill Cosby-y.

Algebra?

Too I-failed-it-in-High-School-y.

Cricket?

Too buggy.

Iron Butterly?

Too one-hit-wonder-y.

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Lila

And by the way: the world might end? What's up with that?

"Tomorrow, we are going to kill all of you! Or maybe none of you! We can't decide!"

Yeah, thanks, super-intelligent robots, that's really helpful for those of us trying to plan our day.

It's like, "So the dress code for the wedding is going to be either White Tie or just a thong. We'll let you know when you get here."

(continued...)