"... voice was heard in all parts of the country, at nine-oh-three this morning, Eastern Standard Time. This voice, purporting to be that of—of the, ah, Deity, announcing the Judgment Day, was heard—ah, was heard in all parts of the country." The voice hesitated, then continued. "In place of our usual program, we now bring you the Reverend Joseph Morrison, who will speak on—" The voice stopped for a moment, then came back with renewed vigor. "The Reverend Joseph Morrison!"
We listened to the radio most of the morning. The Reverend Joseph Morrison seemed as confused as the rest of us, but he was followed by news announcements. The voice had been heard, as far as they could make out, in every country on earth. It had spoken in every language, every dialect and sub-dialect.
Minnie looked dazed as the reports piled in, and Frank looked shocked. I suppose I looked as startled as my normal dead-pan would show. At eleven-forty-five I decided to call my wife. No use. I couldn't even get the operator.
"... possibilities that this is a hoax," a voice was saying from the radio in an unconvincing tone. "Mass hallucinations are far from unknown, and the chance must be considered. In the Middle Ages...."
Cutting through our conversation, and through the blaring radio, smooth as a knife through butter, the voice came again.
"Judgment of the inhabitants of the planet Earth will be held in five days. Please prepare yourselves for final examination and departure. This announcement will be repeated."
Departure! I thought. Where were we going?
"There!" Frank shouted. "You see—it was a young man!"
"You're crazy!" Minnie screamed at him. Her hair had fallen over her eyes; she looked like an impassioned cocker spaniel.
"You're crazy!" Frank shouted back. They stood glaring at each other. Minnie seemed about ready to throw the cash register at him.