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Copemaster

On March 18th 2020 Mister F. copes with COVID-19 crisis

Michael Feldmann's naive laugh got stuck in his throat. His carefree smugly grin has yielded its place to an expression of fear of death. He throws his hands up, falls on his knees before god and begs him for a merciful end. The last Judgement starts. Computer scientists are helpless against this.

OH MY GOD, WE WILL ALL DIE!!!

God punishes us for our lacking mood for buying, pay claims and simple imaginations of love, happiness, health, peace and justice in the world and our doubts about switch-off devices. And because he doesn't like women, always wants to be alone and is asked why the world is so lousy, although he thinks it's so wonderful, he not on his life likes seeing us human beings hugging, cuddling and kissing, when we love each other. Ey, when he notices that he gets total jealous and envious.

The corona virus will exterminate all life on earth, but then finally separate the grey from the red squirrels as well. The sweet red remain here, the grey get off. The dentist isn't terrifying anymore and cannot harm anymore. The observance of a treatment and cost plan now leads to nothing. Legal advice is unnecessary. It often enough was insufficient anyway. The shyster always calculated his own earnings. And we thought he would transfer the money to us. That stupid we were. The opinion of natural scientists, that humanities would not survive, is confirmed. The meaning of the current applied science miracle innovation mangement doesn't need to reveal itself to anybody any longer. And now nobody gives a shit, if this flashy dot there in the sky is a star or a galaxy. Yes, mister Lesch, probable it is a quasar yet. Come on, what's this all about yet? No pig can see this with the naked eye. And there god cannot be found anyway. He wasn't willing to meet on any single space mission. At least he could have sent back to us the Voyager disk and tidy away the space junk. He can't do anything more with it anyway. So much obligingness we could have expected from him. Maybe he disappeared in a black whole. Even he doesn't get out of there. But he should have known this before. Himself to blame. As you make your bed so you must lie on it.