The apocalypse was caused by people who couldn't write a decent plot

The apocalypse started with a knock at the door. <br><br>Bob had been up late writing, a beer in one hand, a pen in the other, and his story on the desk in front of him. <br><br>When he finished writing, he finally went to bed. He was awfully proud of himself, too. It had been a good night. <br><br>The next morning he woke with a start. There were knocks at the door, loud ones. <br><br>"Honey, can you get that?" He called out. <br><br>"No, dear. I'm busy." She called out. <br><br>He rolled his eyes and got out of bed. Why did he always have to get the door? He thought, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. <br><br>When he opened the door there was a man standing there. He was a good looking man, with a square jaw and piercing blue eyes. He was tall, 6'4, with broad shoulders and short-cut blond hair. <br><br>"Hi," The man said. "My car broke down just down the street. Can I use your phone to call a garage?"<br><br>"Oh, sure, of course." Bob said. He let the man in, closed the door, and gestured to the phone in the kitchen. <br><br>"Thanks," The man said, dialing. It was a curious thing, Bob thought. The man dialed with ease, as if he had been calling that number for years. Bob thought that he probably had been. It was a well-known garage in town, and they were known for their good service. But the garage was on the other side of town. How did the man know they serviced this area? <br><br>A thought struck Bob like a bolt of lighting. <br><br>"Sir," Bob said, "why did you park down the street? Why didn't you just come straight to my door?"<br><br>"Oh," The man said, "I'm sorry. I'm stupid sometimes." <br><br>Bob thought about the garage the man had called. He thought about the man's car, and the fact that he had chosen to walk down the street rather than knock on a door right off the street. <br><br>"Sir," He repeated. "I'm calling the police. You're weirding me out." <br><br>"Don't bother," The man said. "I'm about to destroy your whole town anyway." <br><br>As if on cue, a giant mushroom-shaped cloud exploded into the sky. <br><br>"What the fuck?" Was all Bob got out before the man had rushed him, tackled him to the ground, and smashed a small vial of green liquid into his face. <br><br>The world went black. <br><br>When Bob woke up, he was disoriented. He was lying on a cold, metal floor. He had no idea where he was or how he got there. <br><br>He sat up with a groan, rubbing his head. A man was standing over him. <br><br>"Welcome to death's door," He said. "My name is death, and you, sir, are here to die."<br><br>"Oh, shit." Bob said. <br><br>"Yes," Death said. "Soon your soul will be collected and you will move on from this plane of existence to the next."<br><br>"Oh no," Bob said. "What about my wife? My dog? My house?"<br><br>"Your wife is back on earth, but don't worry. She'll be joining you soon enough."<br><br>"What? Why? What's happening to her?"<br><br>"Sir, please," Death said. "Don't make this any harder on yourself than it has to be. Soon you and your wife and dog and everyone you know will be dead, and the world you knew will burn to ash."<br><br>"What? Why? What did we do to deserve this?"<br><br>"It's not you," Death said. "It's the author of your world."<br><br>"What?"<br><br>"Sir, your world was written by an under-qualified, self-published author. He wrote a shit story and filled it with unrealistic characters and shit dialogue and random ass plot devices. It's amazing you made it this long, to be honest."<br><br>"What? But then who are you? And who was that man at my door? And what was that green shit?"<br><br>"I am death," Death repeated. "That man at your door was plot device number four. His name is actually Bob, but your author got confused and mixed him up with you. And the green shit is called plot venom. It was meant to kill you outright, but it's obviously not very potent. As for your author, he's the man who wrote your world. Unfortunately, he sucks. There's an interdimensional council that governs this sort of thing, and we've all decided to terminate your world."<br><br>"No," Was all Bob could say. <br><br>"Sorry." <br><br>As if on cue, the room began to shake and tremble. There was a flash of light. <br><br>And everything went black.