less of a party, more of an obligation

On a cliffside, the masked parents proudly hold their new child aloft next to the box-and-plunger.

“Thanks for coming to our gender reveal party!” they squawk through their talkboxes. The assembled politely applaud, the plunger is depressed, and the night sky lights up as the 2nd moon explodes, sending glittering rock plummeting through the atmosphere.

“Our child’s gender is… DESTROYER OF WORLDS!”

More polite applause and a race to the parking lot to “beat the rush.”