EAST CAMPUS, DUKE—Despite the Warhol-esque splatters of someone else’s puke covering his body, Trevor was safe from COVID-19. Why? Immediately after the excretion event, the puker had put his mask back on. Safety first.
“Mitigating community risk, right?” He asked, winking extra large to compensate for his covered mouth, flecks of franzia-pink vomit still adorning his neck. “I know, it’s a little cringe to care this much, but I just can’t bear the thought of putting our community at risk.” He paused to consider his own virtue while tossing his solo cup five feet to the left of a nearby trash can.
“I can’t believe some idiots are partying without masks. I mean, hello? We’re in a pandemic! Anyway, wanna go back to Giles and make out?”
Reassured, Trevor half-heartedly pushed some acidic chartreuse slime off his air force ones. The stomach acid paired with cheap rosé was probably enough to kill the virus anyway. Silver linings in troubled times.