A lot of people sneeze, but my son has been blessed with the mother load. When he sneezes, he sets off a mini hurricane. I do believe that once he masters controlling directionality, he could make an actual profession out of it. Want to clear out a mess – push everything to one corner of the room perhaps? Blow away the scattered autumn leaves or clear snow off your driveway? Take revenge on an enemy by creating chaos? Move a yacht in your preferred direction? Jump to the next street? Launch a rocket? Have no fear – the super sneezer is here. All he needs to do is point and sneeze. But that’s just petty business, lets aim bigger. Propel a wind turbine to generate enough power for the entire neighbourhood. Good clean energy. Restore the balance. I mean, he is after all, decimating an entire rain forest in tissues.
Let’s also keep in mind that there is another very useful byproduct of the sneeze business. Snot. Viable options – land reclamation, hunting or attacking (think snot-shots in lieu of air-pellets), scary-house host, keep warm in winter as a slug would (puke!!!). Well it is kind of a really yucky product and we have put as little as possible thought into it.
O Oh. I see it. The optical coals have lit up, eyeballs are badgering past their lids, the whirlpool of chest phlegm has started churning, his mouth has opened allowing the sneeze monster to enter. His roiled brains are lining up for olfactory expel. I hear the flimsy scaffold being ripped off his immune system. It can mean only one thing.
The storms a coming…the storms a coming…
Grab the handkerchief. Aim the nasal spray.
What do we say to the Lord of Death?