Dude and Dude: The Lamebda Variant

“I don’ get it, dude.”

“Don’ get what, dude?”

“This lambda variant a tha coronavirus, dude.”

“An’ yer unhappy ’bout this fer why? I sez ya figger out whut’s runnin’ through yer veins, bottle that sauce an’ sell it, an’ mebbe we get rich like them Pfizer peeps!”

“Not.”

Why not?”

“On ‘count a b’cause, fer one, I ain’t sure there’s enuff a me ta go ‘round, dude.”

Virtually ya does, dude.”

“Yeah right. Fer two, we ain’t got lawyers ta save our asses from when tha sauce don’ work no more!”

“Yeah, there’s that.

“Dream on if’n ya gotta, dude, but all I want outa tha deal is fer tha names they’re stickin’ on these virus variant thingys ta make some kinda sense!

“[…] Dude?”

What?

“Ya been livin’ in, like, tha same country I been livin’ in?!? Ya seen enny pennies lately?”

“Ha ha. Gotta start smartenin’ up someplace sometime, yeah dude? Might’s well start wit’ somethin’ ever’body’s talkin’ ’bout.”

“Yeah like?”

“Tha delta COVID what ever’body’s freakin’ out ’bout an’ is fixin’ ta shut ever’thin’ down. Again. Sheesh. Next thing ya know, they’ll be issuin’ hazmat suits ta ever’body, an’ makin’ peeps wear ’em alla tha time!”

“Afta all tha drama ’bout not bein’ able ta make enuff masks fer people ta scream an’ shout an’ carry picket signs about havin’ ta wear? Not happenin’.”

“Yer distractin’ me, dude.”

“Whut’s yer point?

“My point is, if’n yer gonna call somethin’ delta, then ya go ta put a name on tha next thing, ya gotta be, like, consistent. Ya know, like, river. ‘R lake. ‘R mebbe esta … estiharr … estubarrbay ‘r sumthin’. ‘R beach. Now tha beach is sumthin’ we could put up wit’, yeah?”

“[…] Dude …”

“An’ then they haul off an’ call tha next thing we’s supposed ta be panickin’ about lambda. Wtf? That ain’t consistent!”

Dude …

Dude ta you too! What’re they gonna call the next one afta lambda? Beefda? ‘R mebbe porkda? Venisonda?”

Turkeyda. Name it afta you!

“Riiiight. Afta you, mebbe. ‘R mebbe they’ll just do sumthin’ completely different, again, an’ name tha next one macda, afta yer faverite pieces a computer crap.”

“It’d be windowsda, dude, in tha hopes that they c’ld break it that easy. So’s we wouldn’t all haveta die wearin’ yer damned hazmat suits!”

Hey!!

“Can’t stand tha truth, huh? Well, whutevah. Do yer thing. It’s all Greek ta me ennyways.”

“Whu’d ya say?”

“I said, ‘it’s all Grmmmmffmmmmffmmmmmmptui!’ WhaAAAt?!?”

“An’ ya complain ’bout me, dude.”

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