THE coronavirus will soon reduce humanity to a tattered handful of survivors. But how will you waste your final days?
Watching Love Island
What better distraction, as carts collect the dead and civilisation gasps its last, than hunks and babes in a Cape Town villa making sweet love to each other as the bell tolls? The last couple on Love Island might be the last on Earth. And worthy winners.
You’ve been waiting for this moment all your life. Hoard food, build a roadblock on your street, get your crossbow out and weld spikes to your 2012 Kia Sportage. Then die because someone coughed on you while you were buying three pallets of tinned tuna at Makro.
Arguing about whose fault it is
There’s no need to abandon division and hatred just because we’re all going to end up in the same plague pit. Get out there and blame Corbyn, the Tories, Trump, millennial snowflakes, angry old racists, immigrants, the EU, JK Rowling or whoever else you don’t like. Die angry.
Daniel Defoe wrote A Journal of the Plague Year, so why shouldn’t you follow in his footsteps by live-tweeting your symptoms to your 112 followers? Take regular selfies, start hashtags and get retweeted by a dying Piers Morgan. Result.
Cataloguing your Funko Pop! collection
Those few with a natural immunity to the coronavirus will have to reconstruct human society from what remains. First agriculture, then the basics of science, but after that they’ll want to rebuild our rich culture using big-headed vinyl dolls. And you have the shiny Ghost Rider.
Messing about on your phone
Be true to yourself and die as you lived; killing time messing around on your phone while idly thinking that really you should do something but you’re not sure what. Die leaving your final game of Candy Crush Saga unfinished.