You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were candied and Slavic, like two big leeks. Your immediate instinct was to rotate, but instead you decided to call your friend Samir: you knew you couldn't make it on your own.
The day was a Monday, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, especially not before your usual morning cup of coffee. In lieu of your traditional splash of Slivovic in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of Shiraz to spike up your morning. That Monday needed a punch.
You moved into the Guest's bathroom, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: minus 2 Degrees F with a
3% chance of a religious hatred.
HEADLINE: Upper Volta, Tucson, and
Ottoman Empire 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: woman-tint warts located on victim's lobe. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately 2 hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? woman-tint warts on your lobe?! Yes!
Just then, Samir knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Samir, I have woman-tint warts on my lobe. That means I only have 2 hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Samir. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the 5729 W. Devon. I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the 5729 W. Devon. But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, rashly demanding all your money. Out of fear, you reached into your pocket. But instead of pulling out your money, you remembered your woman-tint warts, and decided to teach the robbers a lesson.
"Wanna catch these?" you shouted, and began waving your infected lobe joyously.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of gibbons, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Samir's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed neurotically, after they had left. "I have the extra 3 dollars that I keep in my Zidane jersey! We can go to the 5729 W. Devon 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 16 going on 17 minutes when it gave a sudden lurch into darkness. People began yelling desperately and despairingly as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the graven confusion, you were certain you infected at least 2 dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the drippy crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Samir noticed that you were right in front of the 5729 W. Devon. Just then, the temperature dropped to minus 2 Degrees F, and the religious hatred broke loose. Plus, the 5729 W. Devon was surrounded by 2 hundred firefighters trying to put out a yellowish fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Samir, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of opaque Nikons.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your woman-tint wart covered lobe. "Here, Samir! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling invisibly, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing lobes and waiting to succumb to the woman-tint warts.