Tales of Virusgeddon: Genesis
Now here is a tale of the beginnings of the Virus. When you watch an infection movie, it’s often these braindead scientists who unintentionally create a doomsday virus trying to cure cancer or AIDS or ugliness. The end of the world and fall of society in this case, however, was just the case of a jealous husband by the name of Carl Dettonson with way too much brainpower and a bit of crazy mixed in for good measure. This is his story
Day 0: Genesis
It’s finally complete! A specially tailored virus that would kill that lying whore and that spick she’s been sleeping with. I smiled, the first since I conceived of this little beauty. She wouldn’t even know she was sick until she already passed it on to Mister Pendejo or whatever his name is and every other guy she’d been sleeping with. Might get a few extra people, possibly even become the new hot STD. Good riddance I say. Adultery is a sin and they’ll be getting their just desserts. The devil can thank me later.
This all started about a year ago, when I finally got fed up with doing the yard work and hired a gardener. He seemed nice at the time, even though he was probably illegal. As long as he did a good job I didn’t care if he was from the damn moon, as long as he did a good job and kept hush hush about it. I had finally gotten my tenure, my kids were out of the house, I finally found a dosage that worked, and I was on a fast track towards a nobel prize for my work in virology. Life was good, but it was about to go downhill real quick. The first thing I noticed were the looks my wife was giving that young man. Hungry, like an animal in heat. Didn’t really mind though, to be honest. I’ve given other women plenty of looks during our marriage, but my wife knew she was the only love in my life. Still is, even though i’m about to send her to hell, but i’m getting ahead of myself here.
Anyways, after a while she started making excuses to go out somewhere or another. To go shopping, bowling, ice skating, even claimed to be going for the weekend to some kind of yoga retreat. I just nodded my head and accepted it. She’d always been the athlete of the two of us and knew I couldn’t keep up with her. It’s when Mr Pendejo had “something come up” or “had to take care of his sick mother” at the same time as these little...excursions that I started getting suspicious. One day I followed my wife to her “bowling class”. Turns out it was being held in Mister Pendejo’s trailer. Naked. With the bowling replaced with people having sex in what should be anatomically impossible positions. I pretty much figured out my wife was cheating on me at that point.
My first feeling was pure rage. How dare that bitch cheat on me! I had turned down countless of offers from students to “improve their grade” (both male and female) while my colleagues screw like rabbits. I had waited until marriage for her, pledged my undying love to her, and now here she was fucking the first attract-wow when did she get that flexib-NO BAD! THAT WOMAN IS A CHEATING WHORE! Then rage turned to self-pity. Was I not good enough? Was it because of my focusing so much on my work? Finally though, my self-pity turned to iron-hard resolve. At the time I was studying prions and their relation to virology. Prions are these little messed up proteins that are like a cancer, messing up all the proteins around them. They can cause all kinds of nasty things to happen, the one I was interested in being neural decay.
So I started my work, applying all of my (admittedly) vast intellect to the problem. I was working towards completion just before our 20th anniversary (present day), so I didn’t have much time to exactly perfect it. All that really mattered is three things: Short incubation period, prions are formed, and sexual fluids as a transmission vector. I actually made some contributions to the field of virology during this time, proving a definite link between these little messed up bits of protein and viruses. While my colleagues congratulated me and patted me on the back, all I could think of was the sweet satisfaction I would have at watching my wife lose her mind.