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Bugout! A Novel Coronavirus Novel Ch. 43

We are not going to hold a wake for Palmer at the pizza parlor before the protest rally.

Palmer was a warrior, Wynne said.

He was our son, Bethany said.

He died a martyr to the movement.

How so?

The doctors say the COVID got him but some disease the illegals carried over the border got our boy. We know better. The illegals or the CIA and Bill Gates and Obama got him.

Palmer was stealing and selling our prescription drugs, Wynne, ripping off our painkillers to get high with the high school golf team. I miss him, too, but Palmer was just a pampered rich kid who caught the coronavirus sneaking out to get high with his no-account buddies.

Addiction’s a disease, Bethany.

So is the COVID.

No, Bethany, COVID is a hoax the Democrats made up to steal our freedoms, close the economy and make our president look bad.

Can’t we just bury Palmer in a nice private ceremony?

What’s better, Bethany? You, me and Ashley standing around like the Adams family at the crypt or thousands of armed patriots making Palmer look like Paul Revere?

Wasn’t he at the Alamo?

The Reverend will be honored to do the eulogy. I’ll say a few words and open up the pizzeria for eat-in dining to defy the governor’s take-out-only order. Our free-pizza-for-free-speech will go down in history as a famous civil rights rally.

Like Martin Luther King’s dream speech?

No, Bethany, that was different.

How so?

In case you haven’t noticed, Bethany, we’re white people. King was black. But now that you mention it, mostly blacks and Hispanics are dying from the COVID. The government hates them, too, but not as much as us.

Palmer was as white as they come and he died.

Like I said, he caught the bug off some illegal Puerto Rican Hispanic he was selling dope to.

Aren’t Puerto Ricans American citizens?

To hear them tell it.

Do you remember our honeymoon in Acapulco, Wynne?

That was before the illegals came here and took American jobs.

You mean like all those Mexicans you have working in the pizza kitchens?

There’s nothing illegal about capitalism, Bethany.

So where would we put Palmer at the wake?

Stretch him out respectfully on the buffet table.

By the salad bar?

Fill it with fresh flowers instead of wilted iceberg lettuce and soggy tomatoes. 

That sounds lovely, Wynne.

Maybe we can go back to Acapulco or Puerto Rico someday, Wynne.

Bethany did a funky little dance move.

I don’t think so, Wynne said.

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