My ailment worsens. The virus is stepping up its offensive tactics against my body's defenses, the White Blood Cells. Last night, viral goons lured Don Vito Corpuscleone's eldest son out of hiding in The Bronchus, and viciously ambushed him out at the toolbooth on the New Jersey Trachea Pipe.
Looks like this is the start of an all-out cold war! Time for me to hit the mattresses.
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