You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were flaming and stony, like two big carton. Your immediate instinct was to quiver, but instead you decided to call your friend Pyro: you knew you couldn't make it on your own.
The day was a tuesday, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, especially not before your usual morning cup of coffee. In lieu of your traditional splash of tequila in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of sake to spike up your morning. That tuesday needed a punch.
You moved into the 4, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: -6 Degrees F with a
28% chance of a sandstorm.
HEADLINE: uganda, canada, and
pakistan 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: red warts located on victim's femur. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately 7 hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? red warts on your femur?! Yes!
Just then, Pyro knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Pyro, I have red warts on my femur. That means I only have 7 hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Pyro. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the backalley. I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the backalley. But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, mightily demanding all your money. Out of fear, you reached into your pocket. But instead of pulling out your money, you remembered your red warts, and decided to teach the robbers a lesson.
"Wanna catch these?" you shouted, and began waving your infected femur so.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of foxes, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Pyro's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed very, after they had left. "I have the extra 685 dollars that I keep in my garter! We can go to the backalley 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 12 minutes when it gave a sudden lurch into darkness. People began yelling desperately and extremely as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the dark confusion, you were certain you infected at least 6 dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the gay crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Pyro noticed that you were right in front of the backalley. Just then, the temperature dropped to -6 Degrees F, and the sandstorm broke loose. Plus, the backalley was surrounded by 69 hundred firefighters trying to put out a crazily fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Pyro, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of black nails.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your red wart covered femur. "Here, Pyro! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling undoubtedly, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing femurs and waiting to succumb to the red warts.