I could hear the images being steadily streamed at me by sattalites of unknown origin saying the war is coming so be prepared

I went out on my front porch and saw a black cloud approaching my direction filled with foreigners and locust and black flags waving intentionally decrying "the end is nigh" as butterflies with black wings landed on the unattended garden in my front yard

I knew I was meant to be a part of this war (as indeed we all are; pick a side) so I went and got my weapons of destruction: my bazooka, my Gatling gun, my Bowie knife, my furious intentions

The war was reaching my doorstep, and I decided I would join it, but not before I sat down and ate a slice of carvel cake