Dear Swine: Message from my immune system

Sickness is a funny thing. In medical thought processes it means my defenses were down. I let invaders in, was hospitable and provided a warm place for them to stay. Duplicating their army from within my walls, relishing in the surplus of healthy cells left without weapons. Innocent, tiny cells taken by surprise in a fight they didn't know they were in until it was too late and their contents were spilled allowing the invaders to take what they need and continue to pillage others. Kung foo and Karate will be of no hope now. The alveoli are bound with mucus cuffs, the esophagus has also become a victim of mucus’ violence wrecking havoc on my diaphragm, chest wall and ribs. Each breath is labored and leaves the alveoli shuddering under the mucusy pressure they now know as enslavement. The virus, the leader of the troops, continues on its way slaying the healthy, multiplying itself with the malicious laugh only capable of a masochistic killer. I am not alone. My forces rally in secret. Memory cells, leukocytes and the like plan a heist behind the front lines. They are learning the leaders moves, predicting his actions, creating a plan to crush the bastard. Their moves are slow, but they are calculated. Once they get a hold of this creep they will forever and always remember the invasion of ’09 and how they voided the system of that dead piece of DNA protien carrying dirt-bag. Once this extraction is carried out, if he ever tries to trash this homeostatic skin coated world again, he will see wrath like he has never seen. He can try to disguise himself with funny hats or glasses but this system ain’t having none of it. He will be recognized and shot down upon entrance. No more nice hospitable environment for you. You lost your chance at home make cookies and a warm place to sleep by messing with these leukocytes! YOU ARE FINISHED!!!!