Story 307: Probiotic vs. Antibiotic

           (Scene: A battlefield, temporarily inactive.  There is a large tent for the commanding officer, who is inside writing a letter)

            General Antibiotic: “Dear Host, I hope this missive finds you well, or at the very least, on the mend.  I wish to report that our first round of troops met with limited success: we cleared the outer perimeter of the wound and have made several inroads, but if we are going to have any sort of lasting impact then I am afraid another round is needed, and perhaps the dosage increased to twice daily.  Then, I am confident, we will have the proper numbers to sufficiently overwhelm the destructive invaders and KILL THEM ALL.  On a side note, there are a several rabble-rousers in their midst who seem to have clashed with us in other venues and are now unable to be destroyed; however, by the time we have completed our mission there will be too few of them to cause any significant trouble, I should think.  To be on the safe side, though, best keep an eye on the state of your digestive tract going forward, if you take my meaning.  Affectionately Yours, General Antibiotic.”

            Soldier: (Enters the tent) Sir!  Someone here to see you!

            General Antibiotic: One of the enemy?

            Soldier: Not exactly – says they’re practically a resident.

            General Antibiotic: All right, send `em in.

            (Soldier holds open a tent flap to let in a disheveled visitor)

            General Antibiotic: Welcome!  Have a seat.  (They both sit)  And, you are…?

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Lactobacillus Acidophilus.

            General Antibiotic: Of course, of course, how could I have forgotten?

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: You know me?

         General Antibiotic: Not personally, but I know that your kind and the Host have a lovely mutually beneficial living arrangement.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: That we do.

            General Antibiotic: So.  What brings on this visit?

          Lactobacillus Acidophilus: First of all, I have to say you and your regiment certainly achieve results.  I mean, when you come in, you really come in, if you know what I mean – take no prisoners, wipe them all out, etc.  Very efficient.

          General Antibiotic: Why, thank you – we take great pride in our work.  Leave no organism alive, and we stick to that motto, yes indeedy.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Yes, well, the flip side of that work ethic is a bit of a problem.

          General Antibiotic: How so?  We’re designed to wipe them all out, so we wipe them all out, end of story.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Exactly: the “all” part of that sentence.  (General Antibiotic stares blankly)  You’re killing all of us, too, dude!

            General Antibiotic: Well, we don’t discriminate.

          Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Then how do you expect the Host to survive after you’ve completed your carnage?  We’re the ones keeping the really bad guys at bay; once you’ve finished demolishing us and go wherever it is you disintegrate to, those jerks are gonna move right in!  En masse!

           General Antibiotic: I must say, you didn’t do such a great job keeping out this current lot we’re taking care of now, you know.

          Lactobacillus Acidophilus: That’s not our department!  We’re maintenance; this was a failure in wound repair!

        General Antibiotic: Look, my figurative hands are tied.  We’re not from nature, and our specifications are not advanced enough to target individual types of your kind and let the rest of you be, so right now it’s either deal with the unfortunate collateral damage or find yourself a new Host as this one destroys itself trying to destroy the enemy.

          Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Can’t you just, I don’t know, not kill as many of us each time?

          General Antibiotic: Quite impossible: we strive for 100% with each and every foray.  We know we will not achieve 100%, but as a matter of professional pride, strive we must.  We usually manage to hit 99%.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Yeah, 99% of us, too!  What are we supposed to do?!

            General Antibiotic: That’s not our department.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Clearly!  Your department is death!

          General Antibiotic: Exactly.  We’re doing what you folks obviously couldn’t; it’s regrettable that these scenarios are always all-or-nothing, but the best I can advise is that you send a request to the Host for backup in the form of yogurt, soy milk, or pills like the ones that transported my regiment.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Send a request?  The Host doesn’t listen to us – they barely know we exist!  I can’t even get the nervous system to relay a message; every time I do it just crashes up against the cerebrum and dissipates!

            General Antibiotic: Oh.  Then who I have been sending reports to this whole time?

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Yourself, apparently!

            General Antibiotic: (Shakes self out of reverie) No matter; they’ll figure it out.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Figure what out?

            General Antibiotic: My request for more troops.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: More?!

         General Antibiotic: Oh yes, this is just the beginning – it’s hard to tell at the start of any campaign how many waves of destruction will be needed, but it seems now that at least one more week’s onslaught should just about finish these hooligans off.  Although, I suspect it might be another two weeks, since they’re being especially stubborn.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: And also finish us off!  (Stands) It seems my kind and I have no choice but to join the enemy and fight with them against you!

          General Antibiotic: (Starts writing another letter) I wouldn’t advise it: you’ll be destroyed either way, so you’re better off focusing your remaining energies on keeping the Host alive until you’re obliterated.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: You –

          General Antibiotic: (Looks up again) Ooh, here’s an idea: why not make yourself and your crew resistant to us, like some of those nasties we’ve seen out there – that way at least some of you just might make it to the end, yes?

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Oh, make ourselves antibiotic-resistant just like that, huh?

          General Antibiotic: Uh-huh – who knows, you might even be so already, seeing as you’re still here and I haven’t killed you yet.

            Lactobacillus Acidophilus: Haven’t killed – ?

        General Antibiotic: (Hears skirmishing outside and heads for the tent entrance to listen) Speaking of which, you’d best be moving along now – sounds like the games are starting up again and we wouldn’t want to be caught in the crossfire, would we?

          Lactobacillus Acidophilus: (Opens the tent flaps and sees a battle raging outside; while running away) I hate you so muuuuuuuuuuccccchhhhh….

            General Antibiotic: (Smiles before plunging into the fracas) I love a job well done.

Story 261: Chillingly Commonplace Horror Theatre Presents: Terror at a Microscopic Level!

Warning: The following story is not for the faint of stomach!

            Narrator: She thought Evil could not harm her….

            [Shots of haunted woods and disturbed crypts]

            Narrator: She thought she was safe from all nightmares….

            [Shots of bloody fangs and decaying mansions, backed by the sound of a howling werewolf]

            Narrator: SHE – WAS – willfully uninformed.

            [On a creepily sunny day, Oblivia is jogging in the park when she trips over a random rock, falls, and cuts her hand]

           Oblivia: Ow!  Oh well.  (Sucks the wound and jogs right past the conveniently placed running-water bathroom)

          Shadowy Figure: (Peeking around a tree to watch her progress) Heh-heh, what a perfect victim.

            Narrator: She never imagined that danger lurks around every corner….

            [In an office, Oblivia is on the telephone while juggling papers]

           Oblivia: No, I said it was Thursday; why would I have said it was Wednesday when it was Thursday?  (Wipes runny nose with her hand, sniffling loudly) No, I don’t have a cold, and that wouldn’t make me think one day of the week and say another!  (Sniffles louder and wipes her nose again) That doesn’t change the fact that it was still Wednesday!  I mean Thursday, argh!

            Co-Worker: (Holding out a tissue and a bottle of hand sanitizer to her) Please take these, I’m begging you.

            Oblivia: Oh I’m good, thanks.  (Wipes nose yet again and returns to the call) Maybe you need a sick day for your confusion!

            Shadowy Figure: (Leaning out from behind a tall office plant) This is too good.

            Narrator: Nowhere is safe, not even her own home….

            [In her apartment, Oblivia’s friend is reading a magazine in the kitchen.  From the bathroom, the sound of a toilet flush is heard; Oblivia immediately exits and heads to the kitchen to make a sandwich]

            Friend: (Staring at her) Uhhhhh… did you wash your hands?

            Oblivia: What for?  (Assembles the sandwich)

            Friend “What for?”  You were just in the bathroom!

            Oblivia: What’s your point?  (Licks butter off fingers)

         Friend: Ugh!  Ah!  Ugh!  Ugh!  Ugh!  (Flings away the magazine and runs out of the apartment, screaming all the way out of the building)

            Oblivia: Weirdo.  (Eats sandwich)

            [Horror music plays as Shadowy Figure emerges from the darkened hallway]

            Shadowy Figure: Hello there.

          Oblivia: (Mouth full of sandwich) How’d you get in here?  Front door’s that way.  (Horror music cuts off as she points behind her shoulder)

            Shadowy Figure: What?  No, let me start over: (Horror music resumes) I’ve been with you for ages now, following your every move, and it’s about time I introduced myself.  (Hovers menacingly over her)

            Oblivia: I should say so – stalking someone without at least letting them know about it is just plain rude.

           Shadowy Figure: Well, get used to me being here: since I’m your new best friend, you can call me “Sep.”

            Oblivia: “Sept?”  As in “seven?”

            Shadowy Figure: No, “Sep”-puh, it’s – forget it, I’m Sepsis.

            Oblivia: What the blazes does that even mean?

           Shadowy Figure: I am the culmination of basically all the infections, the end result of their mass accumulation inside you.  (Pokes her shoulder, making her drop some potato chips onto the floor)

          Oblivia: Whatever dude, I’m having lunch right now so you can go accumulate inside someone else until I’m done.  (Picks up the chips and eats them)

            Shadowy Figure: Now that’s just – see what you did right there?

            Oblivia: (Mouth full of chips) What, eat?

           Shadowy Figure: Eat food that had fallen on the filthy floor!  Not to mention all those times you didn’t disinfect the scores of cuts, scrapes, and other breaches of your primary defense system!  And don’t get me started on the non-handwashing!

            Oblivia: Again with the handwashing: you people obsess over that way too much and should mind your own business.  (Brushes crumbs onto the floor and licks fingers)

            Shadowy Figure: You fool, don’t you realize that with your every action YOU INVITED US IN??!!

            Oblivia: Who’s “us?”

         (Shadowy Figure points to the living room where a whole host of Shadowy Figures are lounging around)

            Shadowy Figures: Whaaaa s’up!

            Oblivia: Now how did you guys get in here?  Never mind, just get out now; I want to take a nap.

            Shadowy Figure: Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.  (Horror music plays louder)

            Oblivia: Well you’re not, so I’m going to nap as much as I darn well please; all y’all can lock the door on your way out, m’kay?  (Coughs a lot into her hand, then opens the door for them to leave)

            Shadowy Figure: (Points to her hand) You see!  It’s stuff like that that’s brought on your own DOOM!

            Oblivia: I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t feel particularly doomed.  (Begins shivering)

            Shadowy Figure: (Pulls two other Shadowy Figures out from the crowd) You’ve got influenza –

            Influenza: Hi!  (Is pushed aside)

            Shadowy Figure: – and pneumonia –

            Pneumonia: Yo.  (Is pushed aside)

          Shadowy Figure:  – along with all of them – (Waves at the rest, who wave back) – which weakened you completely, so now, you have ME.  (Lightning flashes and thunder crashes, but there is no rain)

            Oblivia: (Starting to teeter) You, being Sepsis?

           Sepsis: The one and only.  End of the line for you, MWAHAHAHA!  Unless you call 9-1-1 right now.

            Shadowy Figures: Booooo, hissssss!!

            Oblivia: (Pulls phone out of her pocket as she sinks to the floor) But… I never even heard of you…

            Shadowy Figure: Never even – ?!  I kill at least 270,000 people a year!

            Oblivia: Really?

            Shadowy Figure: Yeah.  It’s very serious and sad.  (They stare at the floor for a moment) Still want to be next?

            Oblivia: Ahhhh!!!  (Dials 9-1-1)

            [Cut to Oblivia being wheeled out of a hospital]

            Nurse: You have your discharge instructions?

            Oblivia: Oh yes, and lots of these.  (Holds up a bag of hand sanitizers)

            Nurse: Good.  Be well!

           [Oblivia is driven home by a relative and returns to her apartment bedroom.  As she lies down, ominous music begins to play; she opens her eyes to see Shadowy Figure standing there at the foot of the bed]

            Oblivia: Now what?

           Shadowy Figure: I know you defeated me eventually and all that, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m always here if you find yourself slipping up on the hygiene bit again and – (Is cut off by Oblivia throwing a pillow at it)

           Narrator: Be sure to tune in next time for Chillingly Commonplace Horror Theatre Presents: Jaywalking With Danger.  Until then, pleasant dreams.