Protect Yourself: You vs. the Swine Flu, Part III

3 May

Looking across the wreckage on the highway, the sun still high in the sky and no breeze. I wipe my brow and close my eyes, collecting my thoughts, putting together ideas until they make what at least resembles a plan. Derek’s leaning out over the blown window of the Tahoe. He’s pale and sweaty, wearing a fake Tommy Hilfiger windbreaker and shorts that don’t match. He looks so stupid. Learn how to get dressed, Derek. I can hear more sirens coming. Soon they will be here, and there’s no way to defend myself, let alone a sleepy/Swine Flu-d Derek. Then I hear another familiar sound, that of a helicopter. It’s Lanny. He’s back.

“Lanny! You’ve come to save us! Man am I glad to see you.” I say.

Lanny steps off the helicopter and brushes past me. He then reaches into the Tahoe and removes a Dredg CD. Lanny turns around without saying a word and gets back into the helicopter.

“Well, shit.” I say.

Things are admittedly bad. This did not go at all as I had planned. I had planned for a lot more deaths and a lot more hot bitches. [Editor’s Note: Kyle, you can’t say “bitches on the internet.” “What? Why? The internet loves that shit. Everytime you say bitch on the internet, an internet gets its internets.” “Just…Ok, nevermind.”]

Uh oh. The police are here. There are so many. This could be trouble. Quiet, let me do the talking.

“Oh, hello!”

“Levante sus manos!” The officer with the megaphone yells.

“Que?” I ask

“Kyle, he’s asking about man holes…” Derek whispers. He’s now touching his face. He told me earlier that he could no longer feel it. In fact, at one point Derek asked me if I had his face in a bag somewhere. I told him he was bat shit crazy and creeping me the fuck out. I got out of the car and told him to stay in his seat.

“Levante sus manos!”

“I heard you the first time!” I say. I immediately regret yelling at this man. I draw my weapon and hear what sounds like thunder bursting in the distance and everything goes black.

I died for a bit but it didn’t stick. Not with me. Nuh-uh.

I wake up in a Mexican Prison. It’s pretty nice, though. They let me blog ‘n shit. Derek’s looking pretty sick. Like, gross as shit. He keeps trying to sit next to me. Gag.

Eventually we’re bailed out by a wealthy benefactor. I won’t say his name, but, you probably know him.

“Thanks, ____!” I say. He told me not to say his name becaues if he did, he’d kill my whole family. At first I laughed, but then he looked at me like this and I knew he was deadly serious.

We reached Denton around 5 or 6. Luckily CVS was still open. On the way home, the radio/science said that the Swine/Bird/Derek Flu was easily treated with a medication called “Tamiflu.” Our benefactor paid for it and dropped us off at our apartment.

“Ok, Derek. Take it.”

“Ok.”

“Ok.”

“How do you feel?”

“The same, I just swallowed it. Probably won’t be in my system for at least another–” We knock Derek out with a sock full of nickels. Can’t have him talking so much and spreading his…infection. When he wakes up he’ll feel a lot better.

Cover your mouths, wash your hands, and stay away from crowded areas. I love (like) you all (only my friends).

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