Since 10% of the 6 billion or so people think the the world will end in their lifetime (or at least fundamentally change), I've decided to put forth my theory on how it will happen.

Those who know me know that I love zombie movies.  I await the day that "Zulu Down"  replaces "Tango Down."  In my Netflix cue right now is 2012:  Zombie Apocalypse, which, depending on which reviews you read is a solid B movie or a positively retarded film.  I would point out that those are not mutually exclusive.

Having seen the recent antics of certain "progressive" elements of our society, I think there is a more likely outcome.  So for my third official screenplay:

Open:

A young, carefree, New York boy is walking through Zuccotti Park. Seeing a backpack in the bushes, the child investigates.

Close up of solitary arachnid creeping from the backpack onto the boy's skin. Slow motion as the bug bites into his arm.

Boy: "Ouch!"

Three minutes later

Boy: "Gosh this itches. It must be the man's fault! I think I'll share these irrational thoughts and parasitic arachnids with my classmates."

Dramatic intro music with plain black placard theme:

"2012: Hippie Apocalypse"

Underground government situation room

Super-hot lieutenant: “General! Our containment measures failed!”

Camera shot over General's shoulders to the large map filling the wall. Red circles in areas all over the country spread ominously.

General (slowly and dramatically): “My. God. It’s happening.”

Lieutenant: “What do we do now?”

General: “Lock down all government facilities. Issue biological contaminant suits to all National Guard and Reserve troops. Blockade all major thoroughfares. And lieutenant…”

Lieutenant: “Yes, sir?”

General: “Pray.”

Flash to stock footage of armed soldiers patrolling roads and perimeters around armories and air bases, then cut to small-town hospital:

Country Doctor (sitting at microscope because ALL movie doctors do their own labs:  "Nurse, take a look at this."

Hot Nurse (because ALL movie nurses are hot):  "What is it, Doctor?"

Doctor:  "This blood from that protester.  It looks like malaria, but it has really wierd ring formations

Cut to image on scope:

Nurse:  "Are those..."

Doctor:  "It sure looks like it.  I need to contact the CDC!"  Picks up phone.

Phone:  "Welcome to the CDC.  Para hablar en espanol prensa dos. If this is regarding an outbreak press 1."

Doctor presses1

Phone:  "If your outbreak is viral, press 1.  If your outbreak is bacterial, press 2.  If your outbreak is fungal, press 3.  If your outbreak is parasitic, press 4.  If your outbreak is idiopathic...

Doctor (pressing 4):  "This is a bit ridiculous."

Phone:  "For ascaris, press 1.  For babesiosis, press 2.  For..."

5 Minutes later...

Phone:  "For mutated malaria presenting with with ring forms that look like peace signs, press 88.  For..."

Doctor (pressing 88):  "Oh for the love of all things holy."

Phone:  "Due to the number of phone calls regarding the outbreak of mutated malaria presenting with ring forms that look like peace signs, all lines are currently busy.  Please call back at a later time, or embark on a perilous cross-country journey to our Atlanta headquarters."

Doctor:  "Nurse!  Call my uncle, the grizzled vietnam vet and the hot-in-a-girl-next-door-sort-of-way county veterinarian that I've been unsuccessfully trying to woo since my arrival in this small town I grew up in before leaving for the big city before returning due to the death of a small child I couldn't save!  We're going to Georgia!"

Hallway in mall.  Oncoming horde pounds at hastily constructed barricade as the characters attempt to 

Gizzled vietnam vet, shooting an oncoming flower-armed hippie: “You have to shoot them in the head!”

Doctor, staring at gun in his hands: “Is that the only way to stop them?”

Vietnam Vet, shooting another hippie: “No, but it makes me feel all warm inside.”

Hot Veterinarian: “Doc, just think of it like putting down rabid dogs. It may not be their fault their sick, but it's them or us.” Fires old bolt-action rifle into crowd.

Doctor, continuing to look at WWII Garand: “My grandfather never wanted this gun to be fired in anger again.”

Vietnam Vet (in compassionate voice, laying hand on Doctor's shoulder): “He'd understand, son, he'd understand.”

Hot Veterinarian: “AHHHHHH!!!! It touched me!”

Doctor (starting forward): “NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” Shoots offending hippie in face.

Vietnam Vet (grabbing Doctor by shoulders in dramatic fashion): “There's nothing we can do!” Aims rifle.

Hot Veterinarian: “He's right! End me while I'm not a blithering moron! Let me die with some dignity!”

Doctor (pushing rifle aside just as Vietnam Vet pulls trigger. Round goes wide.): “No! She's a main character! We have to look for a cure!”

Vietnam Vet: “Fine, we'll embark on a perilous journey to save her. But she stays behind!”

Doctor: “Alright.” To Hot Veterinarian: “Whatever it takes, just stay alive! I will find you!”

Hot Veterinarian: “I know. Go now, before I can't control myself!”

Doctor and Vietnam Vet pounding at gate to government lab: “Let us in! We’re not one of them!”

First guard: “You mean, ‘We’re not SOME of them’ or, alternatively, 'TWO of them.'”

Doctor: “Oh, bite me.”

Second guard: “Prove you’re normal.”

Vietnam Vet: “Soviet Communism was a fundamentally flawed system predicated on a misunderstanding of economics as a zero-sum-gain system as well as the assumption of inherent altruism in human nature.”

First guard: “Well said.” Points to doctor. “You?”

Doctor: “Umm…Mao was a moron?”

Second guard, eying oncoming wave of tie-dye: “That’ll do.”

Sterile looking lab

General: “In the 1930's a government research project into malaria found a strain of the parasite that was termed Plasmodium pacifiscus. Like P. falciparum, the form of malaria caused severe neurological deficits, especially in the cognitive abilities. Patients also exhibited multiple complaints.”

Doctor: “Complaints of what?”

General: “Just lots of complaints. They'd complain about the economy, the infrastructure, health care, foreign policy, corporate greed, you name it. Thankfully, it also caused tremendous apathy, which meant that the patients never actually tried to do anything about what they found irritating in life.”

Doctor: “They never tried anything?”

General: “Well, they did write a lot of folk-rock protest songs. A few of them got really good at 'We Shall Overcome.' Their rendition brought tears to my eyes.”

Doctor: “That's it?”

General: “Well, they did manage to occupy the hospital's credit union for a little while. The thing is, the deterioration of their logical thinking skills made them believe they were accomplishing things.”

Doctor: “Despite the fact that nothing actually changed?”

General: “You also have to factor in the growth curve of the parasite. Patients are asymptomatic between 1-5% infection. As more and more cells are infected, the reasoning capacity of the subject decreases. Once the parasite reaches 99%, the patient becomes either a raving lunatic or enters a persistent vegetative state.”

Doctor: “You said this is a Plasmodium species. Is it spread by mosquitoes like others?”

General: “No, its natural vector is the body louse. Due to evolutionary pressure it induces a fear of soap in the victim.”

Doctor: “But if it was isolated, how did it spread?”

General: “I am ashamed to admit, it's my fault.”

Vietnam Vet: “You bastard! You tried to weaponize it, didn't you?”

General (bowing head): “Yes! It caused radical pacifism in subjects! The plan was to unleash it on other countries in war time. The new strain was dubbed P. Hippicus. The disease was Hippititis A.”

Doctor: “But surely you had some antidote, right? We're not all blithering idiots, today.”

General: “No. We had a way to prevent it, but there is no cure.”

Doctor: “How did you control it?”

General: “Through a three-step safeguard. The parasite cannot reproduce in the presence of fluorine, so we fluoridated the water supply country-wide and told our allies to do the same. Couldn't everyone see that the rise of hippies in Continental Europe coincided with several counties' cessations of routine fluoridation?”

Doctor: “But how did that happen here?”

General: “The rise of bottled water. All the vegetarians and vegans with their insistance on organic foods and spring water. We were worried, but a growing percentage of them were forming communes, removing themselves from the population. And anyway, our second line of defense was holding out.”

Vietnam Vet:  "What was that?"

Doctor:  "Certain compounds in commonly used fertilizers.  Everybody was using them, anyway.  But then the organic foods kick started.  We got even more worried, but the third line was there."

Doctor: “What was that?”

General: “Vaccination. At first, we slipped it in with the MMR. Then, as it became apparent that follow-up pediatric care was not being followed among some populations, we put it in the Hepatitis B vaccine and insisted that newborns have it before they left the hospital. But once the ChiComs discovered about the parasite, they had that journal article published in the Lancet claiming vaccines caused autism. We tried to fight it. Within ten years, there were 25 studies published including one in the Lancet the same year disproving the original and even demonstrating that the first doctor had used sloppy research techniques.  Eventually the Lancet retracted it and the doctor was censured.  But it was too late. The news media had caught on to it, and soon whole populations of children were going un-vaccinated.  Since most of the parents who refused vaccines at the outset were the organic food eaters and spring water drinkers, the children were doubly at risk for the disease. My only solace is that China has been hit hard by this disease.”

Doctor: “And now?”

General: “Like all vaccines, the hippititis A vaccine depended on herd immunity. The individual might not be immune—statistically speaking, any vaccine will only take in about 95-99% of patients—but as long as those surrounding the few who were not immune were immune, the non-immune were safe. We can only assume that one of the non-immune contracted the disease and had enough non-immune people in his immediate circle to pass it on.”

Vietnam Vet: “Do you know where it happened?”

General: “From our graphs, the outbreak originally centered around Zuccotti Park. With so many unwashed hippies, the body louse population—both carriers and non-carriers—skyrocketed. It appears that some residual body lice remained after the Occupy Wall Street protesters left all their crap laying everywhere, and somebody got bit, most likely cleaning the protesters' mess up. Furthermore, it appears that with such a large and dense population of body lice, the parasite mutated to become resistant to current vaccines and safe levels of fluoride.”

Vietnam Vet: “But how did it spread around the world?”

General: “From what we can tell, some TSA agents were not wearing gloves when doing enhanced screenings. Supposedly, the gloves cut down on the feel. Apparently, they cross-contaminated some foreign passengers who took it to their countries.”

Doctor: “Is nowhere safe?”

General: “It appears that some rural areas have managed to keep the hippies out through rather extreme methods. Apparently, they were developed by a fourth-grader in a small Colorado town. The method is to shoot the hippies in the head—”

Vet: “Told you so!”

General: “—and set the bodies on fire to kill the lice. We have pondered it, and we may have to nuke our own population centers”

Doctor: “But that's barbaric!”

General: “Good God, man! Look outside! You have flower-carrying, tie-dye morons crapping onsidewalks and police cars, jerking off on courthouse steps, smashing windows and generally vandalizing everything they touch. Hell, they're robbing and raping each other!!  Throwing stuff at people who aren't with them and scaring kids.  And don't get me started on their endangerment of public health with the TB they're spreading. THAT is barbarism! They must be stopped! The cops weren't prepared, and now they've gone over, too! There's nothing else we can do!”

Doctor (looking out window to the streets below): “I have to believe there's a cure.” Turning to the room. “But until there is, I suppose we must do what we can to contain the infection. At least promise to evacuate the uninfected before the carpet bombing.”

General: “We will.”

Scenes of mayhem as soldiers face off against masses of hippies.

Doctor (disheveled from a sleepless night): “I have it! We use specially modulated neutron bombs to create a pulse on a wavelength targeted at the parasites!”

General: “That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. It has no foundation in physics or biology and would only work in some horrible B-scifi film.”

Lieutenant: “Umm, General, sir?” Leans over and whispers in General's ear.

General (standing up): “By God, it just might work!”

Lieutenant: “But Doctor, wouldn't all the infected red cells lyse, spilling massive amounts of hemoglobin into the vasculature, overstraining the kidneys and liver causing a horrible and painful death by renal and hepatic failure?”

Doctor: “Only in the most severe patients. The 99% will definite die horribly, but the people only 75% infected will most likely be able to deal with the added load. We could go around and shoot the dying ones to euthanize them if it will make you feel better.”

Lieutenant (starting to get misty-eyed): “It would, I suppose. Can I cry on your shoulder while hugging you?”

Doctor: “I would, but my heart is still out there with Country Vet. I can only hope she will be can hang on long enough to be cured by this plan. And also that she won't be standing directly below the blast. Besides I think someone else might be a better option.”

Lieutenant: “Who?”

Doctor: “Umm, the master sergeant over there who has saved your life thirteen times in the last forty-five minutes and follows you around like an overprotective puppy.”

Lieutenant: “You're saying you think he's a love interest? I thought he was just a red shirt.”

General: “Easy way to find out.” To Msgt: “Sergeant! Do you have a name?”

Msgt: “Sir, Bob, sir!”

Doctor: “Hmm, that's a fairly generic name, and with cross-categorization popular these days, he may still prove to be an expendable character.”

General: “Either way, just to be safe, I'm ordering you to spend a 90-second passionate-yet-tastefully-edited montage with him.”

Lieutenant: “How tastefully?”

Doctor: “The studio's trying for a PG-13, so it shouldn't really show anything. Same reason no one's said 'shit' yet.”

Lieutenant: “You just did.”

Doctor: “Oh, right. Well, with an R rating, there may be a short topless moment.”

Lieutenant: “Meh. I can live with that. Hey Bob!”

In an utterly predictable turn of events, the first modulated neuron bomb is so big it must be shoved out the back of a C 135 while Doctor looks on to tell people all the stuff he told them twice already.

Doctor (shouting over engine): “Careful with that! Remember, despite being mostly radiation yielding, there will be a sizable physical blast radius!”

Airman (muttering): “You've told me that twice already.”

As they start to shove the bomb out the back over the crowd around Wall Street, Doctor sees Hot Veterinarian directly below in the designated blast area.

Doctor: “Wait! Stop!”

Airman: “We can't! We only have enough fuel for one pass, there is unexpected turbulence, and the deployment sequence is irreversible! It does fortunately take two minutes to complete, though!”

Doctor (grabbing handy parachute from wall of cargo bay): “I've got to get her!”

He jumps out, throwing the chute on as he plummets earthward. He pulls the cord in time to safely land directly next to Hot Veterinarian. Grabbing her, he throws her over his shoulder and runs toward a conveniently placed culvert. He throws her in and dives in after her just as the bomb hits, collapsing everything around them.

Dramatic pan through the wreckage of wall street. Msgt Bob, Lieutenant, General, and Vietnam Vet are walking though the devastated area, alternately yelling “Doctor” and shooting jaundiced, moaning hippies in the heads.

Piece of wreckage falls toward lieutenant. Bob shoves her out of way. Wreckage lands on Bob, bisecting him.

Lieutenant: “NOOOOOOO!!!!!” Rushes to Bob's side along with General.

Bob: “Guess my name was too generic after all. I only wish we'd had more time together.”

Lieutenant: “But I just realized how much I love you! Plus, I'm having your baby!”

Bob: “Just tell him daddy died a hero.”

General: “We will, Bob, we will.”

In the background, a piece of wreckage is pushed aside and Doctor and Hot Veterinarian emerge.

Doctor (seeing squished Bob): “Veterinarian, we need to learn a lesson from this whole tragic story. Life is too short. Lets walk into the sunset, now. And also get you a shower.”

Cut to voice-over.

In the following days, more bombs were dropped throughout the country. While there was initially a fear of a shortage of the modified bombs, the hippies had congregated into a few dense masses known as “music festivals.” Within a few weeks P. Hippicus was almost eradicated in the US.  About 5% of the infected were not in treated areas, instead having moved to small communes.  The government quarantined these.  Approximately 50% of the US population died, many due to end-stage disease, more due to defensive actions by the uninfected, and most due to dysentery and other complications caused by extended periods of living in their own filth.

Bob was memorialized in bronze on the corner of Wall Street. Lieutenant carried her love with her for the rest of her life, stopping by every week with Bob, Jr. to wipe pigeon poop off the statue.  Doctor and Hot Veterinarian married and had a bunch of kids. They, too, visited Bob's statue. They remained phobic of cheap plastic bead jewelry for the rest of their lives.

General was elected president during the aftermath. He appointed Vietnam Vet Secretary of Defense. Under his leadership, all targets used for practice were painted in tie-dye patterns.

The US proved to have a surplus of the bombs and was able to sell them to the world, naming its own price. After using the proceeds to wipe out the national debt, taxes could be dropped, causing business owners to expand. Unemployment plummeted due to the resulting commercial boom and the fact that most of the previously unemployable fine arts majors were among those who died of liver failure.

In the end, the hippies did change the world.