You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were dainty and innocent, like two big Your moms. Your immediate instinct was to thrust, but instead you decided to call your friend Emwee: you knew you couldn't make it on your own.
The day was a Thursday, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, especially not before your usual morning cup of coffee. In lieu of your traditional splash of bailys in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of Absinthe to spike up your morning. That Thursday needed a punch.
You moved into the stairway to hell, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: -1274 Degrees F with a
shitload% chance of a Cthulu.
HEADLINE: Your Mom, Uzbekistan, and
The land of suffering 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: the color of dead childre warts located on victim's loin. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately pi hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? the color of dead childre warts on your loin?! Yes!
Just then, Emwee knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Emwee, I have the color of dead childre warts on my loin. That means I only have pi hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Emwee. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the The Field Museum. I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the The Field Museum. But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, brightly demanding all your money. Out of fear, you reached into your pocket. But instead of pulling out your money, you remembered your the color of dead childre warts, and decided to teach the robbers a lesson.
"Wanna catch these?" you shouted, and began waving your infected loin grotesquely.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of dikdiks, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Emwee's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed busily, after they had left. "I have the extra googleplex dollars that I keep in my thong! We can go to the The Field Museum 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 4 minutes when it gave a sudden lurch into darkness. People began yelling desperately and beebily as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the diarrheal confusion, you were certain you infected at least crapton dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the sweet crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Emwee noticed that you were right in front of the The Field Museum. Just then, the temperature dropped to -1274 Degrees F, and the Cthulu broke loose. Plus, the The Field Museum was surrounded by 7 hundred firefighters trying to put out a unexplainable fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Emwee, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of squirrelly the postman.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your the color of dead childre wart covered loin. "Here, Emwee! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling bestially, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing loins and waiting to succumb to the the color of dead childre warts.