Twas the night before Christmas and all through th
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The predictions were placed about Bill Gates and GSK, with endless analogies supplied by MGK.
The moderators watching, prepared to delete, posts about pie or the safety of vaccines.
And Ken with his chowder, and Respert with his wine, had just settled down to relax and unwind.
When out in Vancouver there arose such a clatter, Craig jumped from his futon to post contrary to the matter.
Up from mom’s basement he rushed with a hurry, threw open his laptop and blinked to see clearly.
The screen lit the keys with an eerie pale glow, and a direct message appeared like a fresh fallen snow.
To what did Craig’s critical eyes did appear, but a press release email that dinged loud and clear.
With confusion at first but recognition soon after, he knew it was news that each one of us was after.
More rapid than cheetahs the indications they came, and he cursed and he shouted and called them by name.
Now HIV! Now Oncology! Now Inflammation! Now Latch!
On Alzheimer’s! On Glio! On Long Covid! On Mash!
To the top page of Reuters, to interviews on Fox News,
go viral, go viral, go viral with views.
And then, when things settled, and settled near $50.
Craig counted his winnings and got begrudgingly giddy.
He’d fallen upwards despite all his efforts,
Everyone became rich, even his least favorite Respert.
And as he realized he no longer needed to post, that Respert was right and he respected him the most. That Christmas came but once a year, but Leronlimab was special and worth all the cheer. He went down to his futon and snuggled in his sack, the burlap scratchy but warm, his whole life in that sack. He looked up toward the stars and mustered some cheer, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Cheers from Respert's wine bunker all the way to wherever you reside. Here's to a great 2025!