These are apocalypse-watchers who meet at an agreed upon sacred spot where lightning, lasers and brimstone will converge at exactly 12:01 on Jan 1 of every year.
But alas, just like every other year, nothing happens:
“Hmmm.. Well there you go. Nothing doing just yet, Joanie. Orion must have been slightly out of alignment with Cassiopeia.”
“Yeah, and I read the tidal charts this morning and they were only 1 foot – which is a little low for the Rapture”.
“Good point. Well, good to see you again Joanie. Same place, same time next year?’
“You bet, Frank. Next year I’ll bring some more cucumber sandwiches. They’re incredibly refreshing”.