New Earth

d0cpr0fess0r: badgoku14: vandallsavage: spectral-shade: badgoku14: I spent 500 dollars on 200 space jam vhs tapes it was worth it fuck no it wasn’t yes it was you fucker do you ever wake up in the morning and think to yourself ‘everybody get up, it’s time to slam now We got a real jam goin’ down Welcome to the Space Jam Here’s your chance, do your dance at the Space Jam, alright’ It’s 200 years in the future. The earth is rebuilding after the fourth nuclear war destroyed our environment. Explorers and archaeologists dig into the layers of soot and rubble once known as the United States of America. All of them wearing protective armor and helmets so they can breathe outside the domed cities that now pepper the Earth. Their mechanical drills pierce through cold concrete, breaking through to a basement from the Before World. There, amidst the dust and cobwebs, lies a plastic container. A pair of technicians drop down. They approach the box slowly, carefully. One licks his lips in anticipation. Simultaneously, they pry the lid open. They gaze inside. Layer upon layer of black boxes, all adorned with identical stickers to mark their front. “Space Jam”, they read in a language now spoken only by Before World scholars. Blinking away the tears in his eyes, a technician activates his communication device, speaking to the dig crew at the surface. “Gentlemen… Call the King-Emperor. Tell him we’ve found it. Tell him… It’s time to slam.” d0cpr0fess0r: badgoku14: vandallsavage: spectral-shade: badgoku14: I spent 500 dollars on 200 space jam vhs tapes it was worth it fuck no it wasn’t yes it was you fucker do you ever wake up in the morning and think to yourself ‘everybody get up, it’s time to slam now We got a real jam goin’ down Welcome to the Space Jam Here’s your chance, do your dance at the Space Jam, alright’ It’s 200 years in the future. The earth is rebuilding after the fourth nuclear war destroyed our environment. Explorers and archaeologists dig into the layers of soot and rubble once known as the United States of America. All of them wearing protective armor and helmets so they can breathe outside the domed cities that now pepper the Earth. Their mechanical drills pierce through cold concrete, breaking through to a basement from the Before World. There, amidst the dust and cobwebs, lies a plastic container. A pair of technicians drop down. They approach the box slowly, carefully. One licks his lips in anticipation. Simultaneously, they pry the lid open. They gaze inside. Layer upon layer of black boxes, all adorned with identical stickers to mark their front. “Space Jam”, they read in a language now spoken only by Before World scholars. Blinking away the tears in his eyes, a technician activates his communication device, speaking to the dig crew at the surface. “Gentlemen… Call the King-Emperor. Tell him we’ve found it. Tell him… It’s time to slam.”

d0cpr0fess0r:

badgoku14:

vandallsavage:

spectral-shade:

badgoku14:

I spent 500 dollars on 200 space jam vhs tapes

it was worth it

fuck no it wasn’t

yes it was you fucker do you ever wake up in the morning and think to yourself

‘everybody get up, it’s time to slam now We got a real jam goin’ down Welcome to the Space Jam Here’s your chance, do your dance at the Space Jam, alright’

It’s 200 years in the future. The earth is rebuilding after the fourth nuclear war destroyed our environment. Explorers and archaeologists dig into the layers of soot and rubble once known as the United States of America. All of them wearing protective armor and helmets so they can breathe outside the domed cities that now pepper the Earth. Their mechanical drills pierce through cold concrete, breaking through to a basement from the Before World. There, amidst the dust and cobwebs, lies a plastic container.

A pair of technicians drop down. They approach the box slowly, carefully. One licks his lips in anticipation. Simultaneously, they pry the lid open. They gaze inside. Layer upon layer of black boxes, all adorned with identical stickers to mark their front. “Space Jam”, they read in a language now spoken only by Before World scholars.

Blinking away the tears in his eyes, a technician activates his communication device, speaking to the dig crew at the surface. “Gentlemen… Call the King-Emperor. Tell him we’ve found it. Tell him… It’s time to slam.”

(Source: badgoku14)

Reblogged 1 day ago from thegreatblousedetective (Originally from badgoku14) 12,151 notes