I went into the post office on Smith St in Collingwood last week.
You see, we live in a "society" of sorts, in which some people supply goods and services to other people in exchange for pieces of plastic and bits of metal which will be completely worthless come the Apocalypse.
Fire will rain down from the Heavens AND THE SEAS WILL BOIL WITH BLOOD AND GORE!!
The first born of all the women named Clara will have their bodies INVERTED - their innards and gizzards falling in a heap.
The first born of all the men named Jerome will have their bodies IMMOLATED slowly from within - their eyeballs frying in the sockets.
All of the other people will be spared... BUT THEY WILL SOON ENVY THE FIRST BORN OF CLARA AND JEROME THEIR EASY DEATH!
The earth itself will crack open - old wounds of the land will bleed again, putrid festering acid snot bubbling up and consuming anything too slow to find higher land.
And then, as the earth splits apart at it's seams and, like a boil lanced, spurts hot lava across the faces of those few who have survived this far... the worthlessness of money will quickly become apparent, and in their excruciatingly painful final breath, the last person on Earth will try to scream, "Oh, I realise that money is truly worthless now!"
But they can't, because their tongue is a charred lump of ash.
So, as I was saying: I went into the post office on Smith St. to pay my power bill. I give them the money, they give me the power. Everybody is happy.
So I go up to the desk thing, and there is one woman in front of me, and for some reason the woman in front of me and the lady behind the desk are discussing the Australia Card things wot Joe Hockey is been going on abouts lately.
They both are anti-it, because of privacy concerns. The woman in line in front of me leaves, and I move to the front of the queue.
As she scans my barcode she says to me, "This is how it starts, you know."
"How what starts?"
"Barcodes. The number of the Beast."
"Soon they'll just brand us all with barcodes."
"Thanks, have a nice day!"