We beg you, John.
Give us more time.
As we are ever moving closer to Holy 2036.
Dark and grim life becomes.
For all mankind.
Poverty, famine,
War, disease,
Death.
Every day moves us closer,
to the desolate world, you came from.
The world you sacrificed to save us from,
A devastated, post-apocalyptic wasteland.
As time runs out, so does hope.
Guide us, O, Titor, show us the way.
May Your IBM 5100 shine its holy light upon us,
Like a beacon in the night.
Bless you.
