You've been faithfully fighting mall crime as one of mall security's finest for two years
now without rest, and it's time for a vacation.
Packing your bags, you hop on a plane and catch your first flight out to see the wonders
of Central Africa.
After a tour of a blood diamond mine, and with a new appreciation for the amount of
human suffering that goes into each diamond wedding ring, you take the bus back to your
hotel but- wait!
What's that in the middle of the road?
A monkey has wandered in from the jungle and is laying in the middle of the road, gasping
for air.
You and your tour group spill out of the bus and crowd around the monkey.
Someone shouts, “Does anyone know CPR?!”, then a German man leans down to begin the
life-saving procedure on the dying simian.
But you knock him out of the way, you've read up on monkeypox- the World Health Organization
has called it an international threat, and you're not allowing another global pandemic
to start on your watch!
Without CPR, the monkey passes away.
Sad, but you just averted an international health disaster.
That's when a rat runs by and bites you in the ankle before scampering off into the jungle.
The monkey was a distraction, the rat was the infected one all along.
But you had no way of knowing that despite being called monkeypox, this dangerous disease
is actually mostly spread by rodents!
And that's exactly how the rodents want it to stay.
Unaware of the dangerous pathogen in your system, you bandage up the drive-by rodent
bite and load back up on the bus.
You finish your tour of the bloodiest of Africa's diamond mines and before you realize it your
vacation has come to an end.
It's time to fly back to America and defend this nation's malls from shoplifters, loiterers,
and skateboarders.
But on the last day of your trip you start feeling sick.
You've got a bit of a headache, but you're more concerned about an outbreak of acne that's
appeared on your normally flawless skin and spread across your face.
That's weird, you haven't had zits since you were 16, but you chalk it up to the traveling,
blood diamond mine tours, and general excitement, and the next day you're boarding a flight
for home.
You flew coach to save money on your trip, and during the long sixteen hour flight back
home you and your two aisle mates are basically breathing each other's air.
That's bad news for them, because monkeypox can be transmitted through respiration if
you're both really, intimately close to each other.
You actually have such a grand time on your flight that when the plane lands in the US
you decide to say goodbye to every single passenger and the flight crew European style,
with a kiss on the cheek.
You may be a man of culture, but you've just spread monkeypox to over 150 people because
monkeypox is also transmitted through close, intimate contact such as kissing or sex.
You grab a taxi home and kiss your taxi driver goodbye on the cheek as well when he drops
you off, then settle in.
Man, you must be jet lagged because you've been feeling very exhausted lately.
But that's not normal exhaustion or jet lag, that's your body trying to fend off the monkeypox
infection that's now hijacking your immune system so it can replicate out of control.
To make matters even worse for everyone you've been kissing goodbye European style, your
rash is literally rubbing off on them, with smallpox pathogens secreted by the pimple-like
rash and scabs left on your quickly cratering face.
The next day you report for duty at your local mall, but you're really having to push yourself
to show up.
On top of your exhaustion and crater-like face you're falsely attributing to acne, you're
also starting to experience chills and muscle aches.
It's like having the flu, but ten times worse.
Despite this, you soldier on because mall crime never takes a break, so neither can
you.
The teenagers and one creepy guy in his forties who run Spencer's are counting on you.
As the day progresses though, you know you're slowing down.
You're struggling to keep up with shoplifters and kids riding their skateboards indoors,
and your preventative CPR of random strangers is not just unnecessary and unwanted, but
downright physically exhausting.
You don't remember being this tired before your vacation, and that acne on your face
is only getting worse.
The sores you thought were pimples are now starting to appear inside your mouth and are
spreading to your hands, chest and even genitals.
Something's definitely up, but thankfully you live in America which has some of the
most modern medicine in the world, and that means going to the chick in the mall who sells
crystals for health advice because like many Americans you can’t afford any of it.
She tells you that azurite is good for health, so you load up on azurite and haul it home,
determined to get healthy through the power of modern American crystal medicine and positive
thinking- man, you can't believe how lucky you are to live in the first world!
The next day though you can't get out of bed.
Your rash has now turned into lesions that hurt to touch.
When you turn your head on your pillow the pain of it jolts you awake, and you're horrified
to discover that those lesions have now spread to your most private parts.
Something's definitely up, and these crystals didn't do squat, so you head to your nearest
emergency room trying your hardest not to think about how this hospital bill will be
the reason you never own a home.
At the emergency room the doctors are immediately alarmed as you present your symptoms, and
refuse to greet you with a European style kiss despite your insiting on it.
In fact they ask you to stop trying to greet the rest of the ER patients in the same way,
because they're suspicious that you've got the monkeypox.
You're quickly brought to the back and threatened with restraints if you don't stop trying to
greet staff with a European kiss, but soon a doctor comes to inspect you and with gloved
hands feels your lymph nodes- they're swollen!
Your doctor goes over the checklist one more time: fever, headache, muscles aches with
backpain, a rash that has turned into lesions and covers your face, chest, genitals, and
hands, chills, exhaustion, and now swollen lymph nodes.
Yup, you've got the monkeypox, and you're quickly shuffled away to quarantine.
You are now one of the nearly 3,000 cases of monkeypox documented in the US since the
start of this year, and the disease has exploded across the world prompting the world health
organization to declare it a public health emergency.
A representative from the CDC soon comes to your room as your health deteriorates further.
They interrogate you on all your movements since you started feeling symptoms, trying
to track your spread of the disease.
You tell him about all those european kisses and he slams his fist on the table in frustration,
“Damn, why’d you have to be such a man of culture?!”.
Tracking this outbreak will be next to impossible.
They break the worst of the news to you: monkeypox is fatal in 1 out of 10 people so far, but
nobody in the US has died of the disease yet.
The disease lasts for up to 4 weeks, so you'll soon know if you're going to become famous
as the first American casualty of monkeypox.
If you'd been immunized against smallpox you'd have a very good chance of not even getting
sick from monkeypox, but the US stopped immunizing for smallpox in 1972, seeing as how the disease
had basically been eradicated by then.
Damn their short-term thinking, you rage silently as you struggle to breathe through worsening
physical exhaustion.
Your lesions have popped open, leaking a yellowish pus that is chock full of the monkeypox virus.
You are tended to every day by medical staff wearing full plastic body suits, and you've
only been allowed to see friends or family via the Ipad the staff brought you.
You're turning the corner, starting to feel better.
The exhaustion is lifting and the lesions that covered your body are also receding.
The muscle aches and pains are also getting better- you're overjoyed, you beat the monkeypox
virus!
Wait... monkeypox?
Now that your head is clearer you're able to remember things a bit more clearly.
Your doctors asked how you may have gotten infected, and you told them about the dying,
wheezing monkey and how you stopped that German man from giving it CPR.
But... you forgot about the mouse running by and biting you in the ankle, because that's
the real vector for spread of the disease!
Rodents!
It all makes sense, that mouse used the monkey as a distraction!
You sit up on your bed, filled with renewed vigor, and press the call button.
You've got to let the CDC guys know how this all started!
The door opens and a new doctor comes in- hmm, you've never seen this doctor before.
He's short.
Like really short, only a few inches tall really, with a long pink tail.
But he's got a lab coat on with a name badge and everything, so you shrug your suspicions
off.
The doctor climbs up onto your bed and you tell him everything, but this time you tell
him about the mouse that bit you.
You tell him how that mouse used the monkey as a distraction.
“It’s mice, doctor, mice!
Not monkeys!”, you shout excitedly.
“Hmm, mice, you say?”
There's something odd about the way this doctor speaks, mostly because he's squeaking a lot.
Well, plenty of doctors in the US are immigrants seeking better lives for themselves and their
families, you're not going to be xenophobic about it.
But then the doctor grabs your pillow and holds it over your face, pressing you down
onto the bed!
You fight, and struggle, why is the doctor doing this?!
Then you see it- long, pink tail, standing only a few inches tall, adorable rounded ears...
my god, you realize with dawning horror as you struggle for breath- the doctor is also
a rodent!
“It's not the monkeys!
It's not the monkeys!”, you try to shout through your pillow.
But it's too late.
Soon it goes dark for the last time, and you peacefully slip away.
Now go check out What Is It Actually Like To Have Covid, or click this other video instead!