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FunFace's Return | FFovid-19 (FForonavirus Pandemic) Fanfiction


Divi boi, walking along the shoreline of Palm Beach, Florida, digests the salty sea air in the midst of a growing Coronavirus pandemic. His rationale? "If I'm going to be dying, I'd rather be in solace of my Millennial and Zoomer cohorts celebrating early spring break, than die in isolation. College had been released early due to viral fears, and all if not most of the bars and restaurants that normally pervaded the boardwalks of Palm Beach, were vacant or "pick-up" only. In a cheeky mood, Divi picks up a tab of Coronas and throws back the cervezas down with lime, like Michael Phelps incidentally ingesting gulpfuls of chlorine in a swim meet. He sits down to engulf the sun one last time before beaches were to be evacuated and redlined for a while. Then, a mystery man sits down next to him. While Divi boi's focus lay on the karmic embrace of Palm Beach, a deep-yet-gruffy voice slices the air and earthquakes Divi's brain awake like a neccbeard just-triggered into rage-quitting.


Like a mutation between Frank Sinatra and Jack White undergoing a metamorphosis in Chernobyl, the voice had an effect like a teenage boi getting caught with his pants down and the fear of God in his eyes. Divi snaps back into focus and retrieves his self-defense mechanism: a stoic visage that screams "I need a Snickers bar because I'm hangry asf!", but to most people it screams, "GTFO I'm not a pleasant person!"
A person, well a thing with no arms or legs and a floating orb-head with different emotes like a mystery 8 ball, comes into full view. "Hey you tryna snap back to reality? You finna psy-opping right now". With all of his might, Divi tries to counteract it's psy-op with the Dividend Vortex, but all attempts were futile in the midst of this thing's...IT's power. Seething in frustration at the resignation of his power, Divi menacingly glares at the orb...only to be met with pure ecstasy and lecherous glee; and a slight smirk slipping out of it's condescending face like a mentally challenged chihuahua. Then with what seemed to be a snap of it's non-existent fingers, Divi wakes up in a pool of sweat and a mix of droolish foam. What he thought was his bedroom, slowly de-pixelated to view like a wake-up-each-morning deja vu. But instead of the solace of status quo, Divi finds himself stuck in a room of white walls. A small window, sealed airtight, shows a bustle of activity: medical professionals in quarantine gear.

Divi tries to make sense of what just happened but as his vision comes to view, sees THE orb with that caustically-sarcastic grin staring back before zipping out of view; like Waldo in a sea of sleep-deprived medical staff. Divi lays back down to sleep, and the cycle repeats like a bad trip of acid.

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