Sicko de Mayo

I called in sick yesterday after sleeping my weekend away in a flu haze. I’d been sluggish for a week, probably due to constant exposure from a sick co-worker. He has children. I believe children are the root of all disease. They all go to Chuck-E-Cheese together to roll around in those germ filled ball-pits. Then they give their hybrid, mutated, diseases to their parents. I would be a very unpopular parent, I think, for I would ban Chuck-E-Cheese from my children’s lives.

The thing is, I never call in sick. Even at my worst, I usually drag myself in for a while. I do not have the cojones that the rest of the American work-force does when it comes to just blowing off work for the sake of their health or for personal reasons. In fact, I am so neurotic about it, that I worried that I did not sound sick enough to speak to my boss in only a semi-sick state. To remedy this, I sprinkled cayenne pepper and black pepper into a plate before calling him. Then I threw that mixture into the air and breathed it in. My glasses acted as goggles to protect my eyes. Though I did not succeed in an on-call sneeze, I did certainly sound fucked up. I also learned that cayenne pepper is the way to go should I ever want to kick my caffeine addiction, because that stuff cleared my head fast!

The flu truly impaired me last week. I could not think clearly. My reactions to everything were dull. I kept trying to think of a good image of how sick I felt. Then I remembered the issue of New X-Men when Cassandra Nova, Professor Xavier’s evil twin sister, injected various diseases into herself and then traded bodies with her brother. He looks like how I felt.

What did Charles do to deserve such mistreatment as the hands of his sister? Good question, reader! After many issues of sadism directed from his smack-talking dandy of a super-villain of a sister, we eventually learn that in the womb, Charles’s first act as a conscious being was to try to choke her to death with an umbilical cord.

The panels of the battling feti are my favorite comic book images of all-time. Poor Cassandra defended herself with her first use of telepathic abilities, but self-defense only led to her tragic miscarriage.* Room only for one of them in that womb. Cassandra spent the next forty years as a conscious slime-mold on a sewer wall, plotting revenge against her brother. Seriously, that psychotic fetus is the best comic book creation ever conceived. Just looking at that rage-filled fetus gives me the strength to venture out in the world today.

Cassandra Nova Xavier, I love you, baby. You are my aesthetic cayenne pepper.

*Edit: Upon a closer look, it seems as if fetus-Charles is the one telepathically attacking, and not the other way around. Cassandra is completely victimized by her pacifist brother. It’s almost enough to make you want to send mutant hunting robots to exterminate 16 million mutants to make a point.


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