You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were morose and zippy, like two big credit cards. Your immediate instinct was to hyperventilate, but instead you decided to call your friend Pinky: you knew you couldn't make it on your own.
The day was a Sunday, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, especially not before your usual morning cup of coffee. In lieu of your traditional splash of acid martini in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of Whiskey chaser to spike up your morning. That Sunday needed a punch.
You moved into the dungeon, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: grouchy eight Degrees F with a
perky four% chance of a bush re-election.
HEADLINE: united states, canada, and
norway have been
completely leveled due to nuclear warfare.
But the health watch really caught your attention:
HEALTH WATCH: Disease Alert: Fatal Outbreak Most obvious symptom: puce warts located on victim's uvulla. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately 9 1/2 hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? puce warts on your uvulla?! Yes!
Just then, Pinky knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Pinky, I have puce warts on my uvulla. That means I only have 9 1/2 hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Pinky. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the corner of Foster . I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the corner of Foster . But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, sloppily demanding all your money. Out of fear, you reached into your pocket. But instead of pulling out your money, you remembered your puce warts, and decided to teach the robbers a lesson.
"Wanna catch these?" you shouted, and began waving your infected uvulla sweetly.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of kitties, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Pinky's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed sleepily, after they had left. "I have the extra happy two dollars that I keep in my thong! We can go to the corner of Foster with that!"
The two of you boarded the El, and calmly waited for your stop. You hadn't been on the train for more than sunny twenty one minutes when it gave a sudden lurch into darkness. People began yelling desperately and craftily as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the blue confusion, you were certain you infected at least way-to-go eleven! dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the rotten crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Pinky noticed that you were right in front of the corner of Foster . Just then, the temperature dropped to grouchy eight Degrees F, and the bush re-election broke loose. Plus, the corner of Foster was surrounded by hurray thirty! hundred firefighters trying to put out a moronic fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Pinky, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of flakey ponies.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your puce wart covered uvulla. "Here, Pinky! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling strangely, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing uvullas and waiting to succumb to the puce warts.