"Today on Fox News we uncover the past behind the newest flu sweeping the nation. Doctor Kuplah is explaining it to us now. Welcome, Doctor."
"Thank you."
"So, you call it Neuro Virus, correct?"
"Correct. The thing about this flu is that, while it doesn't move that quickly, it permeates the cerebral processor for weeks, sometimes months. There is no known cure, and the symptoms are as aggravating as a bad rash."
"Go on while we play some clips in the background."
"Okay, well as you can see from this clip, those stricken ill by Neuro Virus appear normal and don't show any physical signs-- but if you look closely you'll notice that they're all hunched, or otherwise standing in a manner which would suggest discomfort. If we go to the next clip then we notice that they have trouble interacting with others."
"And some individuals report having stroke-like qualities? Where they are unable to process words, and sometimes cannot speak the words that they intend?"
"Yes, it seems that the nervous system is targeted with this virus. Sometimes when someone is trying to say "Hello" they actually say something else. They cannot control this. And there are other, more severe, symptoms. In a few instances, the symptoms are first noticeable while operating machinery. This has caused multiple car collisions and machinery accidents in central Texas."
"This seems pretty sensational, don't you think? I mean, what's the science behind it?"
"Well if you look to the diagram here, we are shown the basic functions of the nervous system. The command is sent from the brain, down the nerves, to the dendrites, and then the action is completed. Well, with the virus, people's nerves do not react in time, or the commands are sent to the wrong place, or they aren't sent at all."
"We'll talk more, after this word from our sponsors."
Annabelle chuckled, watching the television with her husband, leaning into his chest, sighing.
"Why do we even watch this? Fox news is so unreliable."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"What?" She pulled from her husband, eyes wide at the suddenly aggressive reaction from him. "Are you okay?"
"Trying fight fight fight trigger."
In a panic, she stepped away from him, a worried look in his face, arms reaching out-- pleading for something. "Caster oil freight." A tremendous groan escaped his throat, as his knees began to jerk involuntarily, leaving him laying on the ground.
She called 911, panicked that the line was busy. How could 911 be busy? When she finally got through, she heard, on the other line, multiple people shouting and gasping. An operator picked up. "Hi yokel forget em."
And they hung up.
As her husband seemed to seize on the floor, she began to wonder just how long it would take before she was effected.
She hid in the bedroom, waiting for one or the other-- help, or helplessness.
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