Elmo had seen things no Muppet should ever see. When he clawed his way back from the Suck—a place darker than the deepest alleys of Sesame Street—he found his world had changed. The bright colors were muted, the laughter was forced, and the smell of cookies had been replaced with the cold, clinical scent of control. Mr. Hooper’s government had taken over every street corner, every newsstand, every letter and number of the day.
Elmo didn’t have many choices. The Sesame Street Militia was the only group left fighting against Hooper’s iron grip. The Count led them, his mind sharp like a guillotine. He counted each injustice, each fallen comrade, each bullet left in their dwindling supply.
“One tyrant! Ah ah ah! Two corrupt laws! Ah ah ah!” The Count’s fangs gleamed as he loaded his rifle. “Three brave revolutionaries! Ah ah ah!”
Cookie Monster, once a simple creature with a simple love for cookies, had been radicalized. The rationing had taken everything from him. Cookies were contraband now, hoarded only by Hooper’s elite. The blue beast now wore a bandolier instead of a bib, his eyes wild with hunger and rage.
“Me no want revolution,” Cookie Monster growled. “Me need revolution.”
Elmo gripped his rifle, hands shaking. He used to sing about love, friendship, and the letter ‘E.’ Now, the only E that mattered was Escalation. The Second Amendment was their last hope, the only thing keeping the militia armed against the totalitarian regime of Mr. Hooper.
Elmo took a deep breath.
“This is the way the world ends,” he whispered. “Not with a laugh… but with a bang.”