The Eighth Page

Y2K9 Paranoia Causes Panic in Haverford, Ohio

The normally peaceful town of Haverford, Ohio transformed into a hub of nervous energy and anticipation last week, as townspeople prepared for a “Y2K9 Bug” that was ultimately a figment of the town’s imagination. The “Y2K9 Scare of 2009” was initiated by 46-year-old Applebee’s assistant manager Gerald McElroy, who opened his e-mail account in early December to find a message from GameStop advertising the upcoming release of MLB 2K9 for PlayStation 3. “I looked at the title and completely freaked out,” said McElroy, “Like, I just sort of assumed that ‘MLB’ was an acronym for ‘Major Laptop Bombings’ or something like that. I mean, I got pretty scared before the whole Y2K Bug thing, but this was going to be way worse. Like nine times worse.” After rumors of the impending Y2K9 Bug circulated through the small town, citizens began to take action. Townspeople constructed a wall around the town with an automated steel gate to resemble, as one Haverford resident described, “that survivor’s community in the last scene of I Am Legend. The wall, which is over thirteen miles in circumference and cost over $25 million to complete, was not funded by the Ohio state legislature, as it was deemed “frivolous,” “irresponsible” and “a dumb idea” in a written statement released by the state senate. The town’s taxpayers are soon to shoulder the financial burden, paying, on average, an additional $210,000 in taxes per household. Surprisingly, many of Haverford’s citizens don’t seem to mind the tax increase. “Usually, the town spends our tax dollars on stupid stuff, like education, law enforcement or healthcare,” said resident Marty O’Connell, “So this is a nice change.” As midnight approached on New Year’s Eve, most of the town’s residents assembled in the gymnasium at Haverford High School to prepare for the worst. An open laptop was placed on a table at one end of the basketball court while the townspeople huddled together at the opposite wall. Every ten minutes, a man with a gas mask emerged from the crowd, sprinted to the computer and touched the mouse to get rid of a recurring screensaver, which featured a group of several iguanas wearing cowboy hats and handkerchiefs around their necks. “Don’t get me wrong, I think animals are great,” said onlooker Elvira Chins, “But iguanas? With cowboy hats? Come on, that’s creepy.” As 2009 grew nearer, the town waited with anxiety, focusing intently on the computer. The clock struck midnight, and the laptop showed no signs of damage or “bombings.” Haverford was safe, and its residents erupted in celebratory relief. “I mean, we were kind of mad at Gerald at first,” said resident Chaz Barkley, “Like, for convincing us that the Y2K9 Bug was coming, then making us spend 25 million bucks to build a wall we didn’t need, and making us miss New Years Eve with Carson Daly and everything, but we were pretty relieved about everything in the end.” The townspeople then migrated from the high school to one of Haverford’s two bars to “get totally hammered like we planned.”