At first Rome thought the whole thing was some kind of sick prank. She wanted nothing to do with civilization and had not heard about the incoming planes. Rome was even considering moving to Africa to spread the word about Cellulology and thought it was all just some scheme to embarrass her one last time before she left. Thankfully, enough of her fellow cultists backed up the story and even the Mayor himself called in on loudspeaker to plead with her to not abandon America in its time of greatest need. I imagine that the Cellulologist headquarters being in the city was also key point, but all the same Rome agreed to help. She dashed the twenty miles to L.A., police sirens blaring as they cleared the road for her. She bounded over hills and farms, tip toed over suburban houses, and finally arrived to the shoreline. Although the police did their best to drive away as many people as possible, there were just too many fans and too little time. Rome looked around and saw dozens of people, sitting on surfboards in the ocean or hiding on rooftops. She also could just barely make out the Interstellar Moon Jet in the distance. Rome sighed. One of the people watching on YouTube later that week commented that she looked like she was almost about to not do it. Someone else commented that she’d have to be pretty fucking stupid to not think she’d be killed in the blast herself. Eventually, Rome sighed and began to lift off her smock. The digital cameras raised in expectation. When her lone, gigantic garment finally fell to the ground and Rome stood naked before everyone, she raised up her arms and started to laugh. She jumped up and down the shore, she kicked a few waves at the fans on surfboards. She mooned the people on the roofs. And when the terrorists saw her, they realized that they were no longer perfect and could never get into heaven after seeing such a sight. They decided to land the plane.
