The world don't end the way y'all think it do.
It ain't no alien invasions, or no world wars or no crap like that. And it ain't no natural disasters or prophecies neither... 
And, it wasn't really all the way over when it seemed to be all over. 
Trust me, the end was only just beginnin'...
Let me tell it how I seen it, again and again. It was 0930 on Monday, July the 4th, in the year 2,067A.D. I was on lunch break. I had just got done cleanin' the nasty, piss and shit filled toilet that was cloggin' up the bathroom on the 2nd floor just above the research lab. Apparently, one of the geologists who was in charge of the Level 10 security clearance operation they called LavaLamp1, was under the impression that his 329lb ass would be impervious to four helpings of the triple cheese, bacon, bean and scrambled egg concoction on the buffet table in the employee break room, followed by 9 cups of office coffee, and his 17th cigarette of the day. I kindly informed the man while we were smokin', that his old research papers would not properly flush, and that when the restroom was out of toilet paper, he could either inform the Janitorial Staff, or he could just grab himself a roll of T.P. from the closet right outside the restroom. It was 9:30am, on a Monday.
 I'm goin on lunch break.
We had both been there since at least 5 o'clock in the morning that day. I was covering for one of my buddies who wanted to take his dad fishin' for his 76th birthday. And the geolgist, Roger Finkelmeyer, had been sweatin' bullets, scurryin' back and forth between the research lab, and the single occupant bathroom on the 2nd floor since lord knows when, he could'a been there all night for all I know!? Turns out, he had been! Ya see, Dr. Roger Finkelmeyer was in charge of analyzing the plutonium and uranium rich micro samples of a layer of earth known as the Mantle. Word in the employee lounge was that scientists had derived these deep earth layer samples from a preliminary dig where, for the first time ever, they was able to reach 30 miles down, near the bottom of earth's Crust using a tunnel diggin' drill called 'Big Bertha', which was supposed to be the most effective tunnel diggin' equipment ever made. It had been brought out of early retirement from its last dig in Seattle, and suprprisingly it made the descent through the crust layer look like child's play in comparison to its previous mission, drilling through the historic manmade waterfront in Seattle's downtown area in the early 2,000's. Bertha managed to drill within 2 miles from the mantle before she got too hot to keep doin' her job. I heard it's about a thousand and three degrees down there, so from that point, they had to make a special telescopin' syringe out of diamond and titanium to withstand the heat and slowly, gently, poke its way through the last 2 miles of hot dirt so it could soak up just enough of the lava-like goo to study in the lab. Like I said, LavaLamp1 was a Level 10 security clearance operation... I had no business knowing any of this junk but, well... I'm a janitor ya see, so occasionally I tend to come across certain, uh, informations; As it were.
Based off'a gossip I had been subjected to in the smokin' section, and other intel I gathered by way of a couple or few board meetings I'd "overheard" while I was emptying the trash in the offices next door to the board room, as far as I could tell the company I worked for was actually gonna try to dig a tunnel, right to the center of the earth. Hold on a second, here... Lemme backtrack《▪¤ Ya see... Around the same time the International Space Agency announced their 3rd manned mission to Mars, the world was becoming more and more familiar with a young and eccentric billionaire entrepreneur by the name of Doctor Longinus W. Jezabutte, who was much more curious about the subterrestrial depths of the planet right beneath his feet than any of the planets floatin' up there so far above our own.
 
Doctor Jezabutte was the brilliant billionaire heir to his late fathers oil drillin' fortune. At the age of 19, he was far too young to hold any official doctorates, but he was one smart cookie. He knew that people was gonna have a hard time takin' such a young man serious with all his grandiose ideas. But with his even more grandioser bank roll, he was actually able to make some real serious moves. So... As it were, Longinus Wilmington Jezabutte legally changed his first name to 'Doctor', so that he would sound more respectable to other wealthy and powerful business people around the globe. With the help of pullin' a few strings from his late great daddy's ties within the oil drillin' industry, as well as in global politics, Longinus had been given the green light to go ahead with a not so secret agenda to form and personally fund the corporation I now used to work for, commonly referred to as C.O.R.E
which stood for Center Of Reality Explorations.  
According to Lionel in payroll, C.O.R.E was able to employ a whole slew of the worlds top tier  Geologists, Physicists, Mathematicians, Military Elxplosive Experts, Data Analysts and even Janitors, all of which had one thing in common: they all needed jobs. I only knew a handful of these so-called "Experts" by name, and Dr. Roger Finkelmeyer played a key role in the beginning of the end of days. Ya see, Dr. Finkelmeyer as I said earlier, was in charge of all analysis of the  samples retrieved from the Mantle layer. His job was to analyze and determine whether or not the material in the mantle was stable enough to proceed with the company's plan to send 200,000 tons of molten hot led down their tunnel, followed by a nuclear warhead which was gonna theoretically detonate upon contact with the melted metal, supposedly  chargin' the liquified led with just enough radioactive energy to melt its way through the entire mantle layer and on down into the center of the earth's unexplored core. 
I guess the whole project was hinged on Dr. Finkelmeyer's final research data report on how the mixture of minerals and inert gases down there might react to this experiment, and what had happened was... At about 1:00am, 11 hours before LavaLamp1 was scheduled to go full steam ahead, it seems the earth had decided she was gonna up and heal herself of the giant puntcure wound mankind had drilled into her side. Sensors in the research lab started to indicate that abnormally high levels of calcium, nitrogen, and helium was somehow mysteriously formin' in random small 'Nebraska sized pockets' throughout the entire gateway to C.O.R.E's prime destination and suddenly, Dr. Roger's months of research and findings was back at square one. In a huge hurry to cross reference his work with the new information and inform his colleagues of the situation, the sleep deprived Finkelmeyer had worked his body into a full on anxiety attack. He drank too much coffee and smoked more than half his pack of Lucky Strike and due to stress, he just kept eatin' breakfasts until he clogged up the toilet because his body couldn't handle all that damn cholesterol. Then right at the moment when he realized just how quickly this newly formed material would spell cataclysmic disaster if LavaLamp1 were to actually interact with it, his body seized up and fell unresponsively to the ground. I seen 'em puttin the Dr. into an ambulance after lunch as I was headin' down to clean and stock the executive survival pods, 45 levels beneath the facility's basement. It was a  sad moment for all because even though Dr. Finkelmeyer was a big sweaty heavy mouth breather, he was funny and most everyone liked him at C.O.R.E. Everyone except for Doctor Longinus W. Jezabutte. Those two butted heads like a couple schizophrenic goats over any and everything, and only them and the lord knew why. I'll spare you the rumors, but out of fellowship and in the name of company morale an announcement was made by Jezabutte over the P.A. and a moment of silence was held across the campus... 
The brief moment of silence was soon rudely interrupted by another announcement that Operation LavaLamp1 would go as planned, and on schedule because Longinus, being the arrogant  spoiled little skinny rich brat that he was, had been bound and determined to finally make history once and for all. 
Despite the potential risk of one of those gaseous pockets formin' near the blast site, and with blatant disregard to the advice of his highly qualified team, Jezabutte immediately launched Operation LavaLamp1 and so began the end, again. While all the folks in the towns surrounding the blast area readied their homes and businesses for the holiday celebrations they'd planned, and all the important strategic members of C.O.R.E hustled to man their stations, I made my leisurely descent down into the executive survival suites by way of the service elevator. By the time I had reached my stop, the ball was already in motion. Doctor Jezabutte demanded that he himself be the one to press the button releasing the molten led down the tunnel, and I imagine he did so with a shit eatin' smirk on his face followed by a diabolical laugh and the equally diabolical words "Fire in the hole".
The molten led was kept in a container 20 miles underground so that it wouldn't have time to cool on its way down. It took just under two hours to reach the blast zone, and in that time while I was diligently cleanin' and stockin' the plush survival suite number ♾, designed specifically  for Mr. Jezabutte, one of those mysteriously gaseous pockets begun to take shape directly beneath the detonation site. 
Somehow these professional experts had overlooked how the bubblin' hot led might interfere with their monitoring equipment and they just plain didn't see this new hazard simply emerge from the nothin', so the second the last drop of ooze was dripped, Jezabutte and his military explosive expert both entered the code and turned the keys, successfully sending the nuclear warhead down the chute into a melted sea of firey hope.
The survival pods were programmed to close and seal themselves exactly 5 minutes after the emergency sirens had been sounded. Five minutes is a long time for sirens and red lights to be goin' off around a person who's totally clueless to the commotion, but I was bumpin' with my custom noise cancelling earphones, eyes closed six and a half minutes into a classic DraftDrunQ dance mix from an old playlist. The song ended and I opened my eyes just in time to see and hear Doctor Longinus Wilmington Jezabutte come rippin' and screaming into the pod like a 3 year old who just met the real boogeyman. He ran right past me and dove from the middle of the floor onto the sleeper  burying his face deep into the freshly fluffed pillows, (which I farted on as per usual) and the door closed. "What the actual fuck is goin' on?" I swiftly commanded as I looked around the cell containing myself and now a quiverin' babyman. To his credit the whimpering snot nosed boy doctor did his best to compose himself and own the responsibility of his naivety. He lifted himslef off the pillows and sat slouched at the edge of the sleeper straightenin' his bowtie as fear leaked from his bloodshot teary eyes which stared into some other invisible oblivion, pathetically mumbling between each snot snort 
"It's my fault! It's all my fault, it's my fault!"
I was just about to ask him what exactly was his fault when we felt the air pressure drop and heard an ear piercing supersonic boom. The ground started rumblin' and the lights flickered off and on and off again, then the young man stated all too calmly: "It's Done..."
Suddenly, I felt nothing. For what seemed like about 10 minutes or so, I was in a suspended state of animation, lookin' down on myself and noticing how the orange-ish red glow from the fire made my skin look like a surrealists painted rendition of me before my body instantly dissolved into the surroundings. I began to drift off. I continued to drift. Up... until I could see everything. For the first time in my life, I saw the world as a separate entity. I could see an enormous burning cloud. It was engulfing the majority of my view. A bright beam of flaming earth reached out from it's center like the tail of a comet and stretched into the darkness further than I cared to imagine. I couldn't do nothin' but gaze in purely hypnotic awe while the planet's orbit came screechin' to a halt and it's entire atmosphere became completely encompassed with an iridescent blue, green and purple phospheressence. I was  spellbound by the beautifully catastrophic imagery until BOOOOOOM. With the force of some kinda cosmic cannon, momma earth fired out her blazin' iron seed faster than the speed of sound. The vibration from the recoil was powerful enough to paralyze our galaxy and send the shattering shell of the globe I once called home spiraling at light speed into retrograde like a rapidly deflatin' balloon. Trillions of stars in the distance started to shine brighter than ever before in my peripheral vision, and when I glanced up away from the mesmerizin' movements below, I could see that they weren't stars after all, rather they were the faces of people I'd passed by. People I knew, and many I didn't. Rejuvenated faces of friends who'd lived in graves for over a decade. They were gettin' closer by the second until they were right up next to me and I uncontrollably entered their fleet as we raced toward uncertainty, pulled by a force similar to gravity, against the will and desire of our collective consciousness to drift freely, further into the dark void of forever. 
I inadvertently bumped into an object that wasn't movin' with the rest of us, it was Longinus W. Jezabutte, naked and burned, curled up in the fetal position and still whimpering "It's all my fault!!". He was quickly consumed by the returning iron seed which shot backwards passed us like lightning and slammed into the center of the world it had created. Spinnin' back down into the whirlwind of chaos on earth, I found myself repeating, in reverse, actions that I had completed hours, days, weeks and months ago. "What the fuuuu...-"
Before I could finish my thought I felt my ghost smack itself back into my body, knockin' me to the ground. As startled and perplexed as a person could be, I leapt to my feet with cat-like reflexes and grabbed ahold of my mop handle thinkin' "Shit. I must'a dozed off on the job!?"
Scramblin' to take inventory of my body parts and my surroundings I briefly checked the time on my phone. It was 9:30 a.m. Monday, July the 4th. 2,067a.d. T-Minus 2.5 hours before Operation LavaLamp1 was scheduled to commence. I was goin' on lunch break. I had just one more Executive Survival Pod to clean and stock before I could clock out and go home to crack open an ice cold beverage, relax and get ready to watch the fireworks in the valley light up the night sky.