He ran into the meeting and slammed the door behind him. Bracing against the door, he said between heavy breaths, "They were going to quarantine me but I got away."
It was the smallest of the Mindiacs, the members of the former LibertyBob Psychic Department. All of us were suppose to have a meeting to discuss how they cannot claim to be working for me any more and how my attorneys will eat them if they do. The other eight Mindiacs and I started without the little one.
"Yea," he said, "I went to the doctor for my fever and they decided I got swine flu. They said I'm extremely contagious and have to be isolated. I escaped when they weren't looking."
The police, state health officials, and CDC guys banged on the door, yelling that they knew he was in there. Anyway, the result is that we all got a bunch of shots and are now confined to the LibertyBob offices for the week.
There are several problems with this confinement. First, I have a real job besides being the source of all wisdom on the Internet. Second, the Mindiacs have been unemployed for a while and personal hygiene has not been on their list of priorities. Finally, we are locked in a confined space with the moron who brought the disease to us in the first place.
The CDC folks kindly put Disease Boy into a room by himself and sealed it in with plastic sheeting. I suggested that they just fill the whole room with epoxy and let it set up but they didn't use the idea. Now the little moron is contaminating all my office supplies, so I'll have to buy new ones.
The other Mindiacs are just glad to have a place to sleep that isn't made of cardboard. It is strange to watch psychics play poker. They sit around a table while one shuffles. The dealer deals a hand. All but one of the players says something to the effect of, "Aw, man, I lose again." Then the losing players hand over the number of chips that would have been lost if they bothered to go through with the hand. I think they are just yanking my chain, but some of the medical types seem a little fascinated. I wonder how long it will be until they take one of the CDC boys for all he's worth.
The best I can do is try to relax and ignore the fact that work is piling up at my real job. Maybe the boss there can hire a replacement and decide that I should be let go. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with the huge pile that awaits my return. In the mean time, I still have the Internet. Oh help me!
You gotta pick the right guy to do the job.
Go out now and vote for LibertyBob.