Coronavirus Made a Big Mistake Invading the Greatest Goddamn Country on Earth

If the ’rona didn’t want a roundhouse kick to the face, it should have stayed the eff out of ‘Merica

Military jets perform a flyover across Brooklyn Bridge Park in late April to honor Covid-19 frontline workers. Take that, virus! Photo: Al Bello/Getty Images

Listen folks, I’m not here to sugarcoat things. This coronavirus has already robbed many of us of our lives, our jobs, our life savings, and even our baseball. This virus is the enemy. It is its own axis of evil. It has invaded our shores and plundered. It has declared war on every LEGALLY BORN citizen of the United States.

Well guess what, ’rona? You just fucked with the wrong country. Because these colors? They don’t run. Not even on a mask. If it’s war you want, then by God it’s war you’re gonna get. And all of us are ready to take you on. We aren’t afraid to get our hands dirty this time around. No sir. We’re gonna get our hands dirty and smelly and sweaty, and then we’re gonna wrap those hands around your sorry little neck! A lot of countries are scared of you, ’rona. They flee to their houses, and they hide, and they hope you’ll go away. That’s just what you expect, isn’t it? You don’t expect a country to take you on MAN TO VIRUS. But this country will.

We’ll fight this virus with our bare hands if we have to. We will hold the virus down and choke it for a duration of 20 seconds or longer. We’ll breathe right in its face. We’ll drool a long strand of slob down into its face. HOW YOU LIKE THAT, ’RONA? Bet you didn’t expect to be the one to get infected! Well, today’s your lucky day, fucker. Because you’re about to experience the symptoms that typically accompany a nasty case of GETTING YOUR ASS KICKED.

Because these colors? They don’t run. Not even on a mask.

And we’re gonna kick your ass our way. You are our middle finger’s dream come true. We’re not gonna test everyone and contact trace everyone like other countries, leaving ourselves on the slippery slope to ultracommunism. We’re not gonna forbid talking in our grocery stores like the cowardly Germans have. My nana wants her 10 minutes to catch up with the cashier before whipping out her checkbook, and she’s gonna get it. And we’re gonna take responsibility when things don’t go our way. Not like those Chinese people. Can you believe that China would send us this virus and not even cop to it? Months ago, I was telling everyone I know, “Hey, you look out for that China. They’ve sent us defective products before, and they’ll do it again,” and no one did JACK SHIT. Cannot believe China and everyone afraid of China fucked this up so badly.

But you and I? I guess we’re gonna have to clean up this mess together. And we will. We’re gonna join hands, roll up our sleeves, kiss each other right on the mouth, and then enlist in what will be the greatest battle of all. It’s gonna be like D-Day times a thousand. We can do it! Our best defense contractors have been given all the resources they need. Our brilliant minds in health care have been given our blessing to develop biologically aggressive pharmaceuticals that will have the ’rona gasping for air. We are storming the virus’s beaches, setting up camp inside it, and wiping out its supply chain.

And our essential workers will be there, too, right on the FRONT LINES. These brave men and women will continue to man our grocery stores and deliver our pizza. Not because every unemployment register in every state is backlogged into eternity, but because they are real heroes. They’re the ones who are, in my estimation, happy to sacrifice their lives so that ALL us Americans can enjoy the freedom of ordering a 12-inch meatball sub directly to our respective homes. Not all of these people are gonna make it back alive. I already dread the prospect of having to break the news to their families. But you better believe we’re gonna build those people a memorial, likely in the form of a dedicated park bench somewhere in Cleveland. And every other Wednesday at 8 p.m. we’re gonna open up our windows and, for five minutes, blast a stirring rendition of “Fix You” by Coldplay from our phones in SALUTE to them.

For our beloved errand troops that do survive, we’re gonna reunite them with their families at a football game halftime.

That is the challenge YOU face taking us on, ’rona. We got 400 million guns in this country and we ain’t afraid to use them, baby. If I see you trespassing on my property, you better get ready to eat a faceful of fucking lead. I don’t give a shit if you’re trying to sneak into my home cached inside my neighbor’s toddler. That toddler is going BLAMMO. You hear me? The second I unload on you, through that baby, you’re gonna be like OH WOW THESE AMERICANS MEAN BUSINESS.

And we do. We mean business all the time. You see our stock market being ignored? You see our boldest innovators turning down opportunities to leverage this crisis to their own personal benefit? You see our pro sports owners refusing to donate a literal thousandth of their net worth to aid the workers they’ve had to tragically furlough? You see our most cherished brands blithely ignoring the chance to shoehorn nurses into their ads at the last second and to concoct empty hashtags in support of our frontline workers? Not a chance.

You may take some of us, ’rona, but you can’t take us all on. We will come out of our war with you not only stronger, but better. How? HEY WE’RE THE ONES WHO GET TO ASK QUESTIONS AROUND HERE, FELLA. For those who survive, we will have preserved the sanctity of American life. For those who do not, well, they will have done something far, far more important than whatever else they were gonna do with their lives later on. They will have made the ultimate sacrifice for you, and for me, and for Papa John. Because there are more important things than living right now, namely DYING LIKE A REAL MAN.

That’s what you’re up against when you tussle with us, ’rona. Think you can handle it? I don’t think you can. You’re about to get taken behind the woodshed. And we won’t need gloves to finish you off, you BITCH. We’ll fight you forever if we have to. We don’t give a fuck. BRING IT ON.

Columnist at GEN. Co-founder, Defector. Author of Point B.

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