A Letter

Dear Death Plague,

Go away, and leave my household in peace. We never harmed you in any way, yet you feel the need to come back, again and again, and infect various members herein with your vile germs. Honestly, you have TRULY worn out your welcome. What kind of guest visits without invitation and then stays for weeks and weeks, perhaps drifting out now and again, but always returning with a vengeance. Did your mother never teach you the rules of visits such as these? You have reduced me to shoving wads of tissue up each nostril to stop up the pouring (yes, I know this is an exceptionally vivid visual, but you won't pay attention to anything else), and to smearing diaper rash cream all over my nose and upper lip. You have reduced Lee to dreaming of Neo-Citran rather than beer. You have caused Cleo to miss a crucial, pre-competition dance class. In short, Mr. Death Plague, you have royally fucked everything up. So pack your bacteria-laden bags and GET THE HELL OUT!

Sincerely (though in no way "yours truly")

The Snot Queen