It took a moment for the television image to be displayed clearly. Two anchorpeople were talking to each. "Do you find it odd that most of our colleagues on foreign assignments seem to all be in places that were hit?” said Hank.

"No, I'm wondering why the attacks seem to have happened at around the same time. And how did they get so far into the American states? The Air Force would have blown them out of the sky the moment they didn't high tail it and turn back over seas," said Natalie.

"Sounds like you’re saying the whole thing was planned to be that way. Doesn't make any sense in my book," Hank added.

"It's just a thought. I mean if they are attacked at the same time then there'd be no time to alert other countries to set up defensive counter attacks. As for them getting all the way into the US well... that has me worried."

"We'll get back to discussing conspiracy theories later. Let’s go live to Shaiilon Chang at the Great Wall of China shall we? It would be nice to show our viewers something nice for a change."

"How can anything be nice anymore?" Stacey blatantly remarked. The two hosts disappeared with static and rainbow colored lines, the word HIDEO in a corner. Seeing nothing was worse than if it showed the Great Wall of China no matter how catastrophic the damage was.

"Uhh, sorry about that viewers. Shaiilon's cameraman must be having technical difficulties," Hank said nervously. His arm movements under the table hinted that he was wiping his sweating palms on his pant legs.

We all jumped when a phone was slammed down and Andrew's dad cursed loudly. "The blasted robot lady is really starting to get on my nerves!" he shouted knocking something off a table. His heavy military march like footsteps approached. "Anything new?" he said.

"A part of the Great Wall of China is gone," Stacey said.

"I don't get it dad, why would the wall be destroyed?" Andrew said.

"It's a tourist attraction son. Haven't you made the connection that the places where there are always a lot of people are the ones being targeted?" said Mr. McCarthy.

"So why was Canada hit and why Bismarck? It was barley even becoming a major city."

"You got me, I have no clue why anyone would do such a thing to Canada."

"Dad is INC the only news channel that works?"

"It's the first one I came across that did." Andrew flipped through the channels. Static was followed by static, he paused at a channel in service. He changed it when it was revealed to be a sitcom. "I hate those things," he said.

Andrew kept on flipping through the seemingly endless number of channels. "How many channels do you have?" said Stacey.

"Three-hundred twenty-five." My television only had two-hundred and fifty channels, and here I was thinking that was all the channels that existed. If I was overwhelmed, Stacey, who has probably only seen regular broadcast television, must have been totally blown away.

"That doesn't mean much anymore, only about seventy of them work. If even that much," said Andrew's father.

"Ah, here we are." Andrew twirled the remote around in his hands. His dad snatched it out of his hands.

"We don't want you breaking the controller boy. It would be a real pain channel surfing manually," said his father. If he intended it to be taken light-heartedly it didn't work.

"People were just being told of the mass invasion of Israel and then for no apparent reason World War III breaks out," said a wiry black man wearing a fancy khaki suit.

"That’s right Walkin, one minute we see nukes go off in the Western sky the next minute bombers are flying over our back yards," said a tall short haired blonde man. The black man named Walkin shuffled some papers on the table. It was a nervous gesture, the anchor people had been improvising the coverage of the attacks. Nobody would have gone to the lengths to type, distribute and pass out scripts for what many people considered the beginning of the end of mankind.

"I'm sorry Walkin," said the man.

"It's all right. I'm just worried about my wife and kids, and all my relatives."

"I understand Walkin, and so do our viewers."

"Is it ever going to be safe to step out of this building Grant?" said Walkin.

"As long as looters control the streets, we have to stay put. The cops are doing all they can," said Grant.

"Looters, I hate those monsters," hissed Walkin, "Now that we are on that topic, lets go to Perry who has been circling the city of New York on helicopter.

"I can already tell this won't be pretty," said Mr. McCarthy.

"Thank you Walkin!" the reporter said. He had to shout over the whirr of the helicopter, the honking of horns and the mayhem far down below the helicopters altitude. Black smoke rising from buildings was being swirled around by the wind from the rotor blades. "Today, September eleventh, two-thousand twelve New York has once again been the target of a terrorist attack. Only this time it wasn't by jumbo jets, it was done by an entire fleet of predatory birds of war. Is it all a coincidence, or a sick joke to add salt to the wound?" said the reporter. Will you show our viewers the streets please?"

The reporter stepped aside to allow the camera to zone in on the city. Traffic was stalled, and people swarmed the streets. From the high altitude they looked like ants fighting around pieces of yellow fruits, which were actually taxis. The cameraman cursed and was jerked around when the pilot abruptly shifted course.

The camera swerved and focused on the pilot in the cock pit. The ocean visible beyond the sky line visible through the windshield. "You could have killed me you old coop!" roared the cameraman.

"I've got something that will boost your stations ratings," said the pilot.

"Are you taking us where I think you are?" said the reporter.

"Where the spiky headed lady used to be, yeah." There was only one thing that could mean the Statue of Liberty was history. In no time the helicopter was hanging over the vaporized Liberty Island. Lady Liberty's copper body was broken into smithereens. The top half of her body was no where in sight. It had sunk down into the abyss of the Atlantic.