You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were wet and salty, like two big fingertips. Your immediate instinct was to stimulate, but instead you decided to call your friend Clifton: 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 Foster's in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of Colt 45 to spike up your morning. That Monday needed a punch.
You moved into the 109, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: -4 Degrees F with a
3% chance of a Bush election.
HEADLINE: ghana, uruguay, and
canada 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: mauve warts located on victim's tongue. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately 8 hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? mauve warts on your tongue?! Yes!
Just then, Clifton knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Clifton, I have mauve warts on my tongue. That means I only have 8 hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Clifton. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the Wrigley Field. I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the Wrigley Field. But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, briskly demanding all your money. Out of fear, you reached into your pocket. But instead of pulling out your money, you remembered your mauve warts, and decided to teach the robbers a lesson.
"Wanna catch these?" you shouted, and began waving your infected tongue reluctantly.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of sloths, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Clifton's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed happily, after they had left. "I have the extra 44 dollars that I keep in my necktie! We can go to the Wrigley Field 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 lightly as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the bright confusion, you were certain you infected at least 3 dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the round crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Clifton noticed that you were right in front of the Wrigley Field. Just then, the temperature dropped to -4 Degrees F, and the Bush election broke loose. Plus, the Wrigley Field was surrounded by 8 hundred firefighters trying to put out a Orwellian fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Clifton, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of short handcuffs.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your mauve wart covered tongue. "Here, Clifton! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling hesitantly, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing tongues and waiting to succumb to the mauve warts.