Camden, Poopgea and the New Order

We flash forward.


ZAM!


The year is 2042. After the skyrocketing crime rate in Philly finally goes critical a mass exodus of obese guys, all with names Pat and Geno, waddle over the Ben Franklin Bridge causing a disastrously strong constructive tectonic wave that not only destroys the bridge and all connections between the two cities but pushes the two away from each other at an alarming speed.

Eerily this is foreseen 22 years earlier in a movie from Roland Emmerich starring Jake Gyllenhaal, called "The Exodus the Day After Tomorrow". This new land breaks apart from the rest of the continental United States roughly along the Delaware River and surprisingly, and quite coincidentally, right along the northern state line--although it does take Long Island with it which is called Paumanok by the Native Americans meaning, "Whale Penis". The "Whale Penis" and the turd shaped island of New Jersey, or Poopgea, float east into the Atlantic.

Poopgea is immediately thrown into turmoil. It is quickly divided into two regions separated by the Jersey Turnpike: West is a prison-like facility resembling those from John Carpenter films, but not "They Live", and east the Gold Coast of Atlantic City, Asbury Park and Cape May, where the King, Steve (no longer the Prince) resides in his ivory lighthouse and reigns over his subjects using his immense wealth of Skeeball tickets, the new currency, amassed over the course of his "Boardwalk Campaign of Terror" to placate his foes with cheap plastic rings and fake insects.

From the Sagging Nipple of New Jersey, as shown in this rendering of the new land (See Picture), to Bruce Springsteen, the Boss of New Brunswick, a Hoagie of Hopelessness squeezes the North and the South causing pandemonium and resulting in a Civil War that ends two days later when the exhausted and quite winded residents throw in the towel and have a couple of Whiz wits. Why are they so good you ask? Is it the bread made with the famous Schuylkill Punch or is it Ed Rendell's famous secret recipe? Who knows?

The answer unfortunately drifts off with the hellhole known as Jersey where they eventually distill their own pee and fight over gasoline and the remaining jars of processed cheese spread.

Zam! We're back. I'm tired. I think I'll go home now.