Fun with Ebola.

Measles, having failed its audition as a nation devouring demon, has been
rightfully relegated to a smiley face with speckles. This is good.

Those of delusional importance must now cast about for a new big scary toothy
thing to cast as reason for their illusion of existence. If they succeed then
they can continue to think that they actually matter. This is bad, that they
think that they actually matter.

In an feverish effort to out figure the fictions I fervently studied the list
of possible potent pestilences in order that I might have both first and final laugh, and maybe some in the middle.

Ebola loomed high and hideous above both con and contestants, monstrous like a

leaky skin bag of blood flopped flaccid in the field. I could feel that the
fictions felt the feeling I felt they were feeling. YES!!! Ebola!!! Money!!! I
was sure that I had first laugh.

Paragraph five. Ebola. Dark, Djinngy scourge of a yet darker continent,
moving relentless, sluggish across the face of a primal land with ill will,
harvesting whomsoever it will at will. Curse of civil culture, terror of
traders, harbinger of hell in harrowing tales of horror holding hostage
helpless hearers arrested in morbid mesmerism. A thousand years has this
bloody bane scythed sentient sacrifice onto itself! A thousand more would it revel in gore.

This is truly first class hoodoo. No wonder the fictions are so furiously
frantic to factor it into the spreadsheets. Middle mirth would be mine. And
then the last laugh. I would have it all.

I was out of the saddle and on the ground before I heard the rolling resonance
of the round. It had to have come from a long time off. Luckily it was only a
minimally marginalizing mutilation of enthusiastic momentum.

Quickly I scanned the past, perceiving probable portal of projectile
presentation. Then came focus, finely fixated on provenance of temporal
trajectory.

Nineteen seventy six! WT_! This mighty maleficent masticator of mankind's
marrow was DISCOVERED!!! in nineteen seventy six!? How could that be after all
that I had imagined in paragraph five???

The minimally marginalizing mutilation of enthusiastic momentum was beginning
to lose levity in lethal measure. Surely someone of scholarly substance would
have discerned details of Death's dearest disciple in the land's lost lore and
thereby provide medicinal mediation for momentum fallen to grim gravity.

No such luck. This sucks. I was stuck with the rancid reality that Hell's hemorrhagic henchman hadn't wielded sharp slashing sword of scurvy swift and sudden until after the modernities of mechanization, medicine and manufactured food were marketed in profitable measure against barbarous and benighted evolution.

It was equally disheartening to descry that allocations of unassuming ascorbic
acid assisted appreciably to apprehend scurvy swift and sudden allowing hale
hope of avoiding unsolicited annihilation.

Then some joker just had to mention that complications of common cold consistently compile more corpses per year than "e"bola has in its known history. Well, thanks.

But I'm not giving up. I know that malefic merchants of medical necromancy will muster misguided hoodoo to manufacture malevolent malady manifesting mightily through managed MSM misrepresentations magically molding mindless masses.