There’s a killer virus going around and everyone has it but you. Your friends, your family, your boss, even your mailman. They’re all being crippled with violent vomiting and convulsions and eye sockets that spurt blood suddenly. The death toll rises every day, and every day it’s just a little more amazing that you aren’t sick. It seems pretty clear that you’ll soon be the last man on earth. And all you can think about is your Pokemon card collection.
“Can I have your Pokemon cards when you die,” you ask pretty much everyone in your life when you visit their deathbeds. They usually either tell you that they aren’t even sure what Pokemon cards are, or they tell you that they’d rather use this time to say the things that have never been said.
“I’d feel really freed up to speak my heart if I knew what was going to happen to those Pokemon cards,” you say.
Your friends and loved ones who collect Pokemon cards will then usually tell you that they feel like you should be worried about more than Pokemon cards. For example, you might want to think about when the human race ends, which race will rise up to take its place.
That’s when you take a catheter in your fist and you threaten, “The Pokemon cards. Now.” They then sign the transfer of ownership for their collections and you do a little dance. Then you take a seat and talk about the old times.
Once everyone is dead, you’ll start breaking into homes hunting down the cards still missing from your collection. Unfortunately, one Pokemon owner who wanted to go to the afterworld as the sole owner of his collection will have boobytrapped his album of cards so that when you open it, three mounted shotguns with triggers tied to the album cover will fire and blow large holes through your head and chest and your right arm will be severed at the shoulder.
Happy Everyone’s Dying But You Day!
