Ill Humors

ILL HUMORS

The SFF Fools Guild

@2020 by The SFF Fools Guild

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Ill Humors: An Anthology Presented by the SFF Fools Guild

SFF Guild Logo Illustration by ridho_saras

Masks added by Marine Crist

Cover Design by Steve Thomas

First Edition: 2020

Untitled Quarantine Story: A Short Story @2020 Aaron C. Cross

Home At Last @2020 Quenby Olson

The Strange Little Life of Adrian Pancake @2020 G.M. Nair

The Brown Note: A Cord and Nenn Short @2020 Clayton Snyder

Klondaeg vs The Plague @2020 Steve Thomas

Plagued by Management: Rats, Chips, Soda, Socks @2020 A.C. Cross and Steve Thomas

Introduction

The year 2020 has no chill. Zero chill. It didn’t even snow that much where I live and spring came early. This year has felt so long that trying to come up with a list was like dredging up old childhood traumas. An entire continent was on fire. We came closer to World War III than we have in decades. Politics. Celebrity deaths.

And then COVID-19 became a global pandemic.

What can we, a loose affiliation of humorous speculative fictions authors, do to help? Stay home and social distance? We were already doing that, but I will admit I’m closer with my cats than ever. Write poignant works of fiction that help the world refocus on its hope, empathy, and shared human experience? Ha. Please, let us handle the jokes.

Seriously, we decided on jokes.

To help lift spirits, The SFF Fools Guild quickly assembled this anthology. Inside, you’ll find comedic tales of disease, medicine, quarantine, and just plain sickness. We hope you find a few laughs inside, and we can provide a brief respite from the bleak dystopia that is Earth in 2020.

The SFF Fools Guild Presents: Ill Humors.

Steve Thomas

April 2020

Untitled Quarantine Story: A Short Story by Aaron C. Cross

Day 1

Will Texas yawned, stretched, and felt his joints pop in that way that it hurts a little bit but also feels pretty good and like you’re getting ready for the day instead of just sitting at home, waiting for the end to –

Wait, no. Too early for that. Okay, mulligan!

*ahem*

Will Texas yawned and scratched at his beard as he woke up from a nice, deep sleep. It had been so long since he had been able to sleep in that he scarcely even remembered what it was like to not be ripped out of a complete slumber by the sound of what was essentially a cross between a nuclear silo opening and a toaster being thrown into a running washing machine. Damn iPhones. He rolled over, expecting to touch his girlfriend’s face and/or chest and/or butt, but found only an empty side of the bed that was already cold. Curiouser and curiouser. He was used to seeing her short black hair on the pillow. It was normally a comforting awakening. Will had lucked out when he found the only person that liked being warm and cozy in bed more than he did, so the fact that she was not only up and about but had clearly been so for a while now was…anomalous to say the least. As Will climbed out of bed, he congratulated himself on being able to remember the word ‘anomalous’ so soon after waking up. Considering it was a crapshoot on any given day that he even remembered who or where he was right after emerging from sleeping, he felt pretty good about the day.

Standing for a moment to let the chill of the room wash over him as he shook out his long, brown hair, Will heard clanking and voices coming from the kitchen. Damn it. Paisley must have invited people over. Now he couldn’t go walking out there, crotch akimbo (was that even possible?), to surprise her with a ‘Good Morning, Madam President’, a ‘Heavens to Betsy, is that early-onset priapism?’, or even just your bog-standard ‘Hey, I think I have the juice to make something happen right now if you’re interested’ Hail Mary love-making attempt. No, now he had to put on pants. Not just boxers or his branded Sisqo thong. Not even his sleep pants which were so worn that the crotch looked like it had been attacked by a rabid lawnmower. Actual human pants.

He was beginning to feel less positive about the day.

As he finally finished dressing in jeans and his favorite black shirt and grumpily left the room, he was greeted by three things. First, the unmistakable smell of caramelizing onions. Okay, weird breakfast flex but he wasn’t going to complain. Second, he saw his brother Brock – big, burly, and reddish-brown beard and all – and his girlfriend Anika – a stunning blonde that Will could never quite desexualize in his mind, regardless of her dating-his-brother status – standing by the counter. In their hands, they had glasses filled with some kind of orangey liquid, which he assumed was orange juice, but he couldn’t really tell. Could have been Anika being on one of her ‘We’re all unhealthy so time to drink vegetable juice’ kicks. He hoped not. Three days of Brock on one of those and windows were getting broken. The third thing, however, was the most surprising. One wall of his apartment was now completely covered with stacks and stacks of toilet paper rolls and what appeared to be a claymore mine rigged up in front of them.

Claymores in the morning? Today was going to suck.

Uh…morning? he said hesitantly.

Guess again, the voice of his girlfriend said from the kitchen as she didn’t even turn away from grilling the onions.

What?

It’s 1 PM, brosef, Brock said.

No, that can’t be –

I tried for twenty minutes to wake you up, Paisley said, but every time I did, you would swat at me and roll over. So, you missed breakfast and are right about on time for lunch. Hope you’re in the mood for patty melts.

Ah, the patty melt. The first time I supped on a patty melt, I was six years old. My father had just come home from –

Brock, if he keeps going with his bad mockery of Epicurious-style douchebag preambles, I want you to punch him right in that spot that will make him pass out.

The dick? Brock asked.

…yeah, that works too.

Fine, Will said with a grumble, I’ll be good. What brings you guys here?

Anika and Brock looked at Will with concern.

"Did…how long did you sleep?" Anika asked.

Twelve hours!

Three days, Paisley corrected.

"How?" Anika asked.

When I sleep, I sleep hard, Will said with a shrug.

"Yeah, you do," Paisley said, this time with a smile in her voice. Will grinned as Anika groaned.

I’d high-five you if I could, babe, he said.

Better not. I know where that hand’s been.

"That is enough from the person cooking our food, thanks! Anika said as a shiver ran down her back, Seriously, though, you have not heard, Will?"

Heard what?

Whole city’s under quarantine, bro, Brock said.

For what? Did the mayor finally realize that the spread of squirrel-based breakfast sausages was making a not-insignificant portion of the populace go feral and start trying to climb trees? Remember when the marathon runners got a hold of some of those and we had to send the National Guard into the park with rubber bullets to get them down? That was a fun Mother’s Day.

Brock sighed and rubbed his face.

You’ve been awake five minutes and I already want you to be unconscious again. No, dude. It’s something called COVID-19.

CORVID-19? That sounds like a such a badass sci-fi metal band.

No. COVID.

That’s what I said. Corvid. As pertaining to birds known as stout-billed passerines, which includes the noble crows, bastardly jays, shiny-obsessed magpies, and the Baltimore Ravens. I don’t see how Lamar Jackson has anything to do with quarantine though.

I can’t tell if you’re willfully stupid or some kind of broken genius sometimes. And I grew up with you. We’re related. I’m related to your dumb ass. That in and of itself is proof that life is a cosmic joke with humanity as the punchline.

Anika patted Brock on the shoulder, and he went and slumped down on the couch.

Setting aside existential crises for the moment, Will, it is a very serious thing. It is a highly infectious and contagious disease that is showing a troubling mortality rate amongst those who have contracted it. The world is shutting down. Several countries are in complete lockdown. Sports are dead. Even Las Vegas has completely closed.

Will wasn’t laughing anymore.

Well…shit. So, we’re all in quarantine because –

"Because we cannot risk acquiring it and then spreading it to others. In fact, we all did