Infected

The Halloween party went well. Nothing exploded, no children died and, honestly, nothing really that exciting happened. Kids came in, screamed like candy-stuffed fire engine sirens, grabbed more candy, drank/spilled the punch and left. All and all, kind of a let down, really. I’d have preferred something outlandish, no matter the alignment, to have happened. It was Halloween. Something magical in that has been lost since I was a child.

All hollows eve was spent carving pumpkins, listening to the original radio broadcast of War of the Worlds and watching Hellraiser.

In a shocking coincidence, today is also the day I found out that Scott, my co-worker, has become violently ill – much in the same manner as I had become not a week ago.

For the sake of my friendship, I claim coincidence. For the sake of biology, however, I must bow to the natural order of things and admit that, were I an alien species attacking this planet and using this planet’s dead for Martian fertilizer, I would likely be now – just about now – responsible for the death of my entire invasion force.

Achoo.