You'll Never Take Me Alive

madhavi called on my way out to lunch. she cancelled her big wanger dive trip this weekend because she is full of the ill.

she warns, quite logically, that i, too, may be soon full of the ill, but oh no. not me. you'll never take me alive, copper!

actually, i felt fine until she said something. then i noticed i was suffering from the symptoms she's got: queasy stomach, light headedness, giant mutant face boils, and an ability to see through time but, quite irritatingly, only to this bathroom stall in a condemned warehouse on future thursday mornings.
the grafitti there is bad.

will our hero get sick? will he be able to dress like superhero for the bar crawl for his brother's birthday (he's going to be "cell phone reception man")? will he save the damsel in distress by bringing her soup tonight and calling her wildflower?

stay tuned, valiant audience, and see. or read. or whatever.