Chat
11-08-2017, 10:11 AM
2017 Nov 08-Dream-Drunk and Smallpox
05:45 PST
I am working in a pharmacy. There is a man at the counter, unshaven, winter coat and a porkpie hat. He is weaving in place, apparently drunk, and I can’t understand what he is saying. He puts a paper on the counter.
“Have I or did I, didn’t I have to pay for this – or not?” he asks me, “because I shouldn’t have to pay unless I have to, or go someplace.”
The paper has a few rows of numbers and letters in heavy black type (about 40 point) but it isn’t a prescription.
“Sir, I don’t understand” I tell him. “This is not a prescription. What are you trying to tell me?”
He reaches into his pocket. “Here, I can show you,” he says.
He pulls out a cardboard box and takes the lid off. It has a folded paper in the bottom that appears to have the same sort of large letters and numbers as the paper on the counter. On top of that is a long glass ampoule with a clear liquid inside (but no label) and a metal rod about the size of half a chopstick.
He takes out the rod and hands it to me. It is a two-tined metal trident. The ends of the trident are tiny sharpened blades, but no barbs.
“There it is,” he mutters. “Now can you answer it?”
With growing horror, I realize that I am holding a bifurcated vaccination needle, the same type used to give smallpox vaccines. What is in the vial?
Dream ends.
Comments:
Was it smallpox vaccine in the vial, or some sort of smallpox weapons stock? A vaccine would have been labeled. The paper might have been lot numbers of a manufactured product, but the type font was way too big.
He put a paper on the counter with the letters and numbers but no vial. Had he opened a second vial already? What was it? Was he really drunk, or dying?
05:45 PST
I am working in a pharmacy. There is a man at the counter, unshaven, winter coat and a porkpie hat. He is weaving in place, apparently drunk, and I can’t understand what he is saying. He puts a paper on the counter.
“Have I or did I, didn’t I have to pay for this – or not?” he asks me, “because I shouldn’t have to pay unless I have to, or go someplace.”
The paper has a few rows of numbers and letters in heavy black type (about 40 point) but it isn’t a prescription.
“Sir, I don’t understand” I tell him. “This is not a prescription. What are you trying to tell me?”
He reaches into his pocket. “Here, I can show you,” he says.
He pulls out a cardboard box and takes the lid off. It has a folded paper in the bottom that appears to have the same sort of large letters and numbers as the paper on the counter. On top of that is a long glass ampoule with a clear liquid inside (but no label) and a metal rod about the size of half a chopstick.
He takes out the rod and hands it to me. It is a two-tined metal trident. The ends of the trident are tiny sharpened blades, but no barbs.
“There it is,” he mutters. “Now can you answer it?”
With growing horror, I realize that I am holding a bifurcated vaccination needle, the same type used to give smallpox vaccines. What is in the vial?
Dream ends.
Comments:
Was it smallpox vaccine in the vial, or some sort of smallpox weapons stock? A vaccine would have been labeled. The paper might have been lot numbers of a manufactured product, but the type font was way too big.
He put a paper on the counter with the letters and numbers but no vial. Had he opened a second vial already? What was it? Was he really drunk, or dying?