Ill Will

Ill Will

“Hey, Frank!” shouted Cuthbert as he pounded on the door of a three-story house.

“Oh, you came,” a vaguely familiar voice whispered through the keyhole.

“Of course, you invited me, we’re best friends, so I came.”

“I texted you last night...”

“My ghost web was down again, what’s up?”

“I’ve caught something, I’m so sick I’m not myself!”

“Aww, come on! We’ve been planning this! I am so ready to do this!”

“I was ready too, then my younger cousins came over yesterday. Boom! I woke up with it.”

“What exactly is it? Maybe I’ve had it before.”

“I doubt it!”

“If you don’t tell me what nasty germ it is, how will I know if I’ve ever had it or been inoculated for it?”

“It’s very doubtful you’ve had it or even heard of it,” Frank sighed through the keyhole.

“Why’s that?”

“Humans don’t get it often. They get another form of it!”

The silence went on for what seemed like hours.

Finally, Cuthbert cleared his throat.

“If you didn’t really want me to come, why did you ask me?”

“Cuthbert! Don't take it like that! You can come when I’m better!”

“Maybe I don’t want to. I’m going home now!”

A sigh drifted from the keyhole.

“It’s not what you think, but I won’t force you!”

With a bloodshot eye to the keyhole, Frank sadly watched his would-be friend leave.

“Who was that, Frank?” his mother’s voice said from behind him.

“A new friend. We were supposed to spend some time together today, but...” he gestured at his huge porcine body with purple spots and double dragon wings in despair.

“Monstrous Purple Polka Dotted Dragon Swine Flu is no joke, I’m sorry, son,” his mom soothed as she felt his head and dosed him with syrup.