You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were stunning and high, like two big nooses. Your immediate instinct was to shoot, but instead you decided to call your friend Whitney: you knew you couldn't make it on your own.
The day was a Wednesday, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, especially not before your usual morning cup of coffee. In lieu of your traditional splash of absinthe in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of shot of the v to spike up your morning. That Wednesday needed a punch.
You moved into the broomcloset, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: 45 Degrees F with a
45% chance of a mudslide.
HEADLINE: Albania, Brazil, and
Greece 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: ultramarine warts located on victim's knuckle. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately 8 hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? ultramarine warts on your knuckle?! Yes!
Just then, Whitney knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Whitney, I have ultramarine warts on my knuckle. That means I only have 8 hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Whitney. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the Godiva'a. I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the Godiva'a. But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, happily demanding all your money. Out of fear, you reached into your pocket. But instead of pulling out your money, you remembered your ultramarine warts, and decided to teach the robbers a lesson.
"Wanna catch these?" you shouted, and began waving your infected knuckle mightily.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of mice, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Whitney's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed miserably, after they had left. "I have the extra 45 dollars that I keep in my nylons! We can go to the Godiva'a 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 45 minutes when it gave a sudden lurch into darkness. People began yelling desperately and frightfully as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the shitty confusion, you were certain you infected at least 45 dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the odd crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Whitney noticed that you were right in front of the Godiva'a. Just then, the temperature dropped to 45 Degrees F, and the mudslide broke loose. Plus, the Godiva'a was surrounded by 169 hundred firefighters trying to put out a compressed fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Whitney, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of round oranges.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your ultramarine wart covered knuckle. "Here, Whitney! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling oddly, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing knuckles and waiting to succumb to the ultramarine warts.