Bobby takes it in stride with a grin and a shrug, rather than running directly outside to flip the universe a double-bird like we'd have done. We probably don't have a promising future in politics.
A Man Tries to Save His Choking Cat, Contracts The Motherfucking Plague
AP via New York Daily News
Paul Gaylord was outside his house when Charlie the Cat started yacking, as cats named Charlie (or anything else) tend to do. Charlie had tried to swallow a particularly disagreeable mouse, and was now quite disagreeably choking to death on it.
You had one job.
Paul, as any loving cat owner might, stuck his fingers straight down Charlie's gullet in an attempt to yank out the obstruction. Now, there a lot of things that can potentially go wrong in this scenario. Paul could get scratched the hell up, or ... well, that's pretty much it. One thing that could never, ever, not in a million (or at least several hundred) years happen is that Paul would contract the goddamn bubonic plague. That's because Paul was about a thousand times more likely to be struck by lightning than he was to contract the goddamn bubonic plague. Why would we even write that, anyway? How do we even come up with this stuff?
Paul contracted the goddamn bubonic plague. Now, to be clear, Paul was not a Middle Ages peasant. This happened in 2012 in rural Oregon, which is apparently home to time-traveling rodents.
Sadly, Charlie bit Paul and scampered away to hide before Paul could dislodge the murderous mouse. The next day, Paul came down with a fever. His skin turned gray in a manner that was depressingly accompanied by no superpowers whatsoever. After being rushed to the hospital, he fell into a coma while his fingers and toes began to literally rot off.
"As always, before touching any cat, make sure it is not carrying an ancient mummy's curse."
Paul was in a coma for a month, during which he progressed through the bubonic plague's bigger, assholier brothers: pneumonic plague and septicemic plague. With each progression, his chances at survival grew dimmer: His organs progressively shut down, and his fingers and toes had to be amputated. To say it was a miracle that he survived would be an understatement -- he's the only person known to have ever survived all three stages of the plague.
But despite being death-punched by an anachronistic affliction, Paul maintains a positive outlook on life, and refers to the incident as a "fluke." He now spends his days crafting knives in his workshop (an impressive hobby for a fingerless man), presumably preparing for the day when he can tell karma to go enthusiastically fuck itself, the same as he once told death.
AP via New York Daily News
Every blade has death's name on one side, and karma's on the other.
To recap, the lesson from today's article is, "Never help an animal, under any circumstances, lest you anger the gods."
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For more unfortunate souls, check out 4 People Who Just Suffered from Freakishly Bad Luck and The 7 Most Bizarrely Unlucky People Who Ever Lived.