Print journalism, the once essential medium for communicating news and loving bed for millions of dogs, finally died on the evening of Jan. 26, 2045. It reportedly froze to death on the sidewalk when not one person went outside to bring a newspaper in. Print journalism was 440-years-old.

On a rainy Monday in a barren Brooklyn cemetery, a pre-recorded eulogy was delivered by a priest who could not make it to the occasion. The only attendants at the funeral were a pair of hologram journalists, the ghost of William Randolph Hearst and some hostile trees.

“This has been a long time coming, and we weren’t leaving before sapping over the grave of this son of a b-tch,” one tree said.

In its humble beginnings, print journalism was the primary source of information on village tabloids and which 10 moon cycles could make your crops go gaga. At the height of its affluent career, it served as an essential tool in political activism as it brought down presidents and started some shit between Spain and America.

In its final years, print journalism became defunct — yellowing after years of packing fragile items, picking up gum and swatting flies. It was edged out of the mainstream in the digital age by companies like Facebook and Buzzfeed as print journalism was ineffective for tagging friends in memes or determining whether you were a Rachel or a Ross.

As the obituary section died years before the paper did, few celebrities heard about the passing. But when President Donald Trump was told about the death, on the eve of his eighth inauguration, his only tweet was “Fake News. Sad.”

Despite its death, thousands of college students still major in print journalism in hope of its revival. Print journalism was buried next to its relatives, Johannes Gutenberg and the paperback novel.

Email Louis Rodriguez at [email protected].