In a science-like quest to solve the Coronavirus for himself, columnist Ed Mountaineer believes he may have found a way to protect himself from the COV-19 virus. How? By becoming dirtier than anything or anyone ever. Read his story below. My name is Ed Mountaineer and like some people you know, I am smart. The following is how I used my brain to solve the Coronavirus. Part one: I quest myself up. The first part of any quest is to decide it’s a quest and you’re on it. I imagine this is how the hobbit felt when he began his thing. Only in my case, I’m not starting a medieval times fighting adventure. I’m stopping a deadly virus. To prep myself, I surround myself with books, drink mead, and smoke a pipe. Then I fight a librarian who tries to stop me. I feel this is a good “warm up” for what lies ahead. I won’t be fighting stupid library people, but it feels good to physically wrestle someone. Part two: I study the virus. Although I am no longer allowed to be around library books, I decide to study the virus. I am no virus scientist, so this is difficult. But I do see a man in a store cleaning something with a towel and a spray bottle. I approach him and he says the store is closed. I demand to know what he’s doing with his bottle. “Cleaning. What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” he asks. “Does that kill the virus?” I ask him. He is a pecker face. He doesn’t answer and locks me out. Part three: I come up with my own idea. The pecker faced man who locked me out of his store may be sure that his solution kills the virus, but I have another idea. What if, instead of cleaning everything, I make it dirtier? I share this idea with internet people on some online places. Almost every one of them says I’m an asshole or stupid or a stupid asshole. Except one. Buttjam69 gives me a hopeful response. He (or she?) writes: “Yeh, bra. Dat’s it!!!!!!!” This gives me new confidence and I move to the next phase of my plan to stop the virus. Part four: I attempt to be the dirtiest person on Earth. The science behind my idea is complicated, but it is basically this: I cover myself in so much filth that the disease can’t make its way to my vital organs. Also, when the disease gets to me, it says, “Fuck this. He’s already dead or something. I’ll go find another body. This one smells like shit!” I begin with some hesitation, but soon I am rolling around in dog poop I find in a park. Then I cover myself in garbage and hide by a rock till the next day to see if my experiment has had any effect. Part five: I begin drinking a lot. For whatever reason, the stank on me makes me want to drink. I return to my apartment and I feel fresh, like the crap all over me has given me a power I’ve never experienced before. I get all jacked up and find a bottle in my kitchen. I drink the whole thing. Now I’m out of liquor and need to find a store. This part sucks because most of the alcohol stores don’t want to let me in. Also, I have no money. Part six: I wander and get filthier. Can’t get a fucking drink anywhere, so I just start running for a while down the city streets. Everybody—I mean everyfuckingbody—gets out of my way. I am like an invincible stink god, owning the town. Owning all the people. Owning the disease? Maybe… Part seven: I am a person. But I am also a pile of shit. After a week of immersion into garbage, filth, and shit of all kinds, I am no longer really human. I am more like a walking pile of shit. Would the Coronavirus dare to take me now? I doubt it. Does the Coronavirus infect huge piles of shit? Ha ha ha ha. I doubt it, but just to be sure, I stop by the window where the news people are reporting about the virus. I press myself against the glass and scream at them that I’m immune, just to see if they have a scientific response. They are clearly baffled and I win. Conclusion: I have beaten the Coronavirus. Not much more to say on this other than I now wander freely as a feces-covered crypto-beast who answers to no one—not even a deadly virus. Congratulations to myself, I guess. But I don’t even know what “myself” is anymore. Next time you see some garbage, some shit, just think of me, and whisper, “You did it, Ed. You did it!” Then go hide somewhere and regret being free. |
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