The storms are brewing. The seas are swirling. The potholes are growing. The City of Saints is being ripped asunder by indecency, impropriety, immorality. And that’s just the humour. The days of road-crossing chickens and the insulting of your fellow man’s mother are past, ravaged by the new world order of comedy. Who is to blame? Who casts such evil upon this land?
They rode into Grahamstown together. One on a black steed, one in a hovercraft, one in a chariot, and one in a 1999 Toyota Corolla. Cue the strike of lightning: the Four Horsemen of the Haha-Mageddon!
Leading the charge was the horseman of Death, Robert Jordan. He oversaw all, the master of this destructive ceremony. The energy was excessive and caused ever-increasing excitement. He takes extreme pride in his work, and is devoted to raining his wrath down on those unfortunate enough to have a front row seat. He hailed the coming of his fellow horsemen, cracking one-line whips and quips that would prove to be but the morning coffee to the day of judgement.
Despite the obvious contradiction, Death made way for War. Brad Lang, the Doomslayer, as the booming voice of his deity announces him as he takes to the stage. Lang eats, sleeps, breathes the eternal conflict – one waged with giant trolls, overworked healers and other, unseen faces.
In other words, video games (he got that booming voice from Halo).
Lang keeps his audience enslaved and enthralled, not afraid to insult himself or them. At the same time, the Horseman of War remains subtle in his preachings, an aura of malevolence that comes with being a tactical and strategic genius of the bantering battlefield. Banter was once described to me as casual talk, but for smart people. Going by this makes War all the more terrifying.
Then came Famine, in the form of a…bard? Haha-Mageddon would not be complete without musical accompaniment. Bearing an ukulele, Nicholas Merle sings to the arrival of hell, bringing you, the audience, his imaginary girlfriend, and the entire South African political system to their knees.
Fear the ukulele.
Merle enacts his wrath with a certain level of sincerity. There is something genuine with the stories and the scenarios that he imparts. Though some may not respond to the manner in which Famine disseminates his humour, you are able to see and hear that he is speaking from the heart.
Famine lays waste, preparing the victims for Conquest. Jethro Dylan Thomas, the fourth Horseman, and bearer of a suspicious American accent. Conquest keeps the audience guessing in regards to his allegiances, what with that accent and his peculiar insight into coloured people. He has much to say, and with the jokes rocketing into people’s faces, it proves to be a relatable reckoning – a strong force to lead the rear of this infernal party.
Nothing can stop The Four Horsemen of the Haha-Mageddon. We fear perishing, we will perish, we yearn to perish! All by their hand! Who can save us? Who can save even them?
No, not one from Death’s Halo game (one could make that mistake), but an advocate of the devil himself, Angel Campey!
Taking a break from raining hellfire on her own audiences, with her show Devil’s Advocate, Campey emerges to not only save the horsemen, but to grant us a merciful and humorous destruction. Campey proves to be an effective and illustrious conclusion to the end times, displaying high levels of sincerity, and a complete intolerance for those who wish to not take Haha-Mageddon seriously.
By Sam Spiller