The Day the Earth Caught Fire

The time is now 10:41.

19 minutes before countdown.

19 minutes.

- Yes. - Jeannie?

- Yeah. - This is Pete.

See if you can find somebody to take a story from me.

- My typewriter seized up. - I'll try.

- You all right? - Yes, so far.

Better come up here, Jeannie, no sense in being on your own.

Pete, how long before we know...

— Copy desk. — Yes?

Hold, I'm giving you newsroom.

Look, Kitty do me a favor.

- Are you ready? - Who's there?

Pete Stenning, I can't write... Now will you take it for me?

But for what? Who says there's gonna be an edition?

Just take it.

Okay, go ahead.

Nice and slow.

It is exactly 30 minutes

since the corrective bombs were detonated.

Within the next few hours,

the world will know whether this is the end

or another beginning.

The rebirth of man,

or his final obituary.

For the last time, man pursued his brother with a sword,

and so the final fire was kindled.

The earth that was to live forever,

was blasted by a great wind

towards oblivion.

It is strange to think that barely 90 days ago...

Davis, yeah?

Why would he collapse?

Anyone in it?

Well look, try and get a local photographer,

I'll send someone.

- Mitchell! - Yeah, Dave?

More flood trouble, Ascot Racecourse.

New grandstand collapsed.

About the only thing not under water in that area

seems to be Windsor Castle... Martin's down there.

- Take a photographer. - Right.

I think Foreign gets the splash tonight, Dave.

Big earthquake piece from Jakarta.

We got enough splashes with these floods.

"Exeter marooned, five to six feet of water main Devon roads.

Marines move in with high troop carriers."

Ten minutes, I'll even take earthquakes.

Steve, try and get a call through to Plymouth.

Tell Denison to give us the latest Lynmouth position.

"Add flash: Beauty queen riot:

- "Protest and sue each other." - Yeah, we got some

great pictures, but Jack says we're a family newspaper.

Down here, Mr. Davis.

- Anything new on the test? - Only the last AP report, sir.

New York announces it was detonated 25 miles

from the South Pole... Must be the biggest bang yet.

Not the test, the cricket.

Oh, sorry, sir.

- Still no play, pitchers... - Are you getting tea?

- I wasn't, Mr. Davis. - Well, you are now.

- Anything else exciting. - Yeah, four transatlantic jets

grounded with reported navigation trouble.

- What causes navigation trouble? - Sunspots.

- Sunspots? - Well, ask a silly question.

All right here, Mr. Maguire?

- Mm? - More protest letters, sir.

- Ah no, take 'em to Features. - Features said

- take 'em to you, sir. - I can't stop the bloody bomb,

it went off ten days ago!

All right, put 'em down.

Take those back to the morgue, will you?

- Sir. - Yeah?

No, this is Bill Maguire here.

Oh, I'm sorry, Sandy's out of the office at the moment.

Well yes, even reporters have to go sometime.

Yes, all right, I'll tell him.

Would you mind telling me something?

I was under the impression you wanted the piece on thrombosis.

Well, as I can only do one thing at a time,

what am I expected to do with all these protest letters?

Thank you very much, but there's 1,700 of them.

Don't worry about that now... Go down and see

if my car's back, will you? It's a tan Morrison

in the side entrance... See if it is.

Mr. Stenning's probably in Harry's bar.

- Tell him he's wanted, quick. - Yes, sir.

And how's the thrombosis market?

Great, this will give the higher paid

executive readers a nice moment of anxiety

at their breakfast tomorrow... Boy!

Mr. Sanderson's asking for you, Mr. Stenning.

So they sent Pip the cabin boy to bail me out.

- I think he was in a hurry, sir. - Yes, well you just tell him

I'll be coming up when he sees the bubbles.

I just gotta get some clips from the library, sir.

Fine, make sure my obituary's up-to-date.

But why alter my heading? What you trying to do?

- Make a job for himself? - Bill, you can't print a feature

on thrombosis and call it, "You too can be

- "the death of the party." - Ah, we're all going soft.

That's what we're all getting, soft.

- Hi, Billy boy. - Good evening.

Well, your car is safely back.

It's a fine vessel, and should prove seaworthy

for another hundred years or so.

What I don't understand, why bother to come back?

You borrow my car for lunch, why bother to hurry back

- at 6:30? - I saw my kid today.

- Oh yeah? - Yeah, fantasy pleasure gardens.

She lets me see him sometime... It's my legal right, you know?

- Uh-huh. - We spent the afternoon

on the ghost train, the only customers in rain.

You know, Sandy's been screaming for you.

He's a nice little kid, bright too.

Remembered me after about 10 minutes.

And throw this lot down too, my floor's full.

Ah, don't you like that fan mail?

Biggest experimental bang of all time is ten days old.

Instead of being proud, the public demands we stop it.

Oh, I don't know, the best science man in the street

ought to be able to pull off a little job like that.

Make a trick film maybe.

Yeah, you know, the mushroom goes back into the bomb,

bomb goes back into the plane, which fires backwards

over the task force, steaming backwards from to Antarctic.

You'd better start climbing backwards to Sandy's office,

'cause he wouldn't believe you were in church.

Well, he probably wants me to take over the Science desk.

Promotion, Stenning rises again!

Don't think you wouldn't be welcome.

- What have you got? - "Add flash: Spitsbergen reports

the largest earth tremors ever recorded."

Sorry I wasn't around, Sandy.

Okay, I'm used to it... Do you know anything

- about sunspots? - Sunspots?

- Do you hear that static? - My favorite tune,

but I don't think it'll make the top 10.

I'm not joking, Pete... there's usually a lot of sunspot static

this time of year, and during the last week

it's been heavier than ever.

The TV people are having trouble with their pictures...

Yeah, says the public.

Do me a 500-worder for the leader page.

- Success! - Wait a minute.

Here are a couple of ideas about navigation trouble.

- Maybe you can tie them in. - Yeah, why not?

Hey, great idea.

With all these floods, what about a Daily Express ark?

Great sales promotion, Sandy.

You know what, Pete? I really think you're gonna

have to try a bit harder.

This paper isn't built to carry passengers.

All right?

Okay.

Well, Billy boy, they got me doing your homework.

- 500 words on sunspots. - Have you seen the figures

on some of these earth tremors?

Is another planet trying to contact us?

"Are you receiving me? Are you receiving me? You are?"

- We're getting knotted. - Must've been

a hell of a big bang to give these

- seismograph readings. - Tell me all about sunspots,

- daddy. - Sunspots are caused

when the rays of the sun beat down

on an unprotected torso, thus causing a sun rash,

similar to acne.

I thought it was clean living that did that.

Bring out the meteorological center,

see if you can speak to Sir John Kelly,

maybe he'll give you some quotes... if not,

- you can talk to Pat Holroyd. - Pat Holroyd, that berk

- from Picture Post? - Oh, he's a P-R-now,

- he's gone legitimate. - Wow, this calls for

- a celebration toast. - Pete.

- Ring the Met Center. - Well, I'll be back

in six-and-a-half minutes past my medicine time.

Get me the Met Center please.

- Thanks for holding on, Bill. - Holding on to what?

My job... this may not be a revelation to you,

but, and I quote, the thrill is gone, but it's really gone.

- You know what I think? - I should get my finger out

- and back on the typewriter. - Probably.

Alcoholics to the press unite.

Yes? Oh yes.

This is Peter Stenning, Daily Express,

to John Kelly, please.

Well, it's nice of you to be interested.

I wanna speak about sunspots.

Just one moment please... What do I do with the press?

- What does he want you to do? - Wants to talk to Sir John

- about sunspots. - Oh dreary. Press office.

- No direct call to Sir John. - Sorry to keep you waiting,

I'm putting you through to press office.

Look, I don't want the press office, dear,

I want Sir John Kelly.

All right, all right, then get me Mr. Pat Holroyd.

Yeah? Oh yes, Sandy.

Yes, I understand all that, clear, but Holroyd knows me,