I know you think you’re getting away with something, hiding in an olive dropped on the floorm or in the salsa bowl I left out overnight, or on an unwashed plate. But let me tell you something: I’m on to you. I know about your disgusting, microscopic copulation. I know all about your expansionist policies. I know all about the stink you plan to make. I’m on to you, and I’m still going to eat this damn olive! I’m still going to eat off this plate! I’m still going to dip this chip! I will knowingly toss you down my gullet, consequences be damned! If your punishment isn’t brought by the bubbling acids of my stomach, if you are somehow able to escape to the seeming security of my bloodstream, my white blood cells will hunt you down, one by one, like the low animals you are.
I will happily undergo whatever pain you might be able to cause me, because I will know that in the end, my superior defences will prevail! You may cause me to take an extra trip to the toilet, or a few extra naps. But know this - once roused, my immune system will not stop until every last one of you is destroyed and reduced to your component chemicals.
Arrogant little fucks.
