You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were fancy and lugubrious, like two big grills. Your immediate instinct was to hock, but instead you decided to call your friend Steve: 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 goldschlager in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of cranberry Stoli to spike up your morning. That Monday needed a punch.
You moved into the 3, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: -895 Degrees F with a
578% chance of a Anna Nicole Smith.
HEADLINE: Namibia, Benatar, and
Santorum 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 hair. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately 3 hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? puce warts on your hair?! Yes!
Just then, Steve knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Steve, I have puce warts on my hair. That means I only have 3 hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Steve. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the the Alley. I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the the Alley. But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, moistly 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 hair cockily.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of naked mole rats, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Steve's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed deftly, after they had left. "I have the extra 3 dollars that I keep in my sarong! We can go to the the Alley 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 17 minutes when it gave a sudden lurch into darkness. People began yelling desperately and immediately as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the encomiastic confusion, you were certain you infected at least a hundred dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the leftover crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Steve noticed that you were right in front of the the Alley. Just then, the temperature dropped to -895 Degrees F, and the Anna Nicole Smith broke loose. Plus, the the Alley was surrounded by 48 hundred firefighters trying to put out a greasy fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Steve, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of coruscating jeremiads.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your puce wart covered hair. "Here, Steve! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling ass-munchingly, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing hairs and waiting to succumb to the puce warts.