Las Vegas Is No Place For Unusually Small Fast Food Workers (Well, As Good As Any Other...)Mature

The bus turned around a hill and the lights of Las Vegas shone in the night like a beacon, and they drove toward it like moths, not caring what lie before us, be it paradise, or death. All that Murphy could think about was CSI. The victims, innocent or not, always were avenged. Is that just? What is justice, rather than the rebalancing of our utopia? 

The bus drove past the WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS sign, and stopped in front of the MGM. Murphy stepped out, and took a breath of the desert air, not all that different from his hometown...

But that was irrelevant. Murphy needed a job, fast. He had 57 dollars, and that wasn't enough for ten minutes at the MGM. He needed a motel, but first a job. 

"Hey, there, kid! How would you like to become a part of product testing for a new drug? It kills 100% of all bacteria, tearing them open from the--" A man said, probably a student somewhere.

"How much will you pay?"Murphy asked. 

"$2500 per test," the student said.

"Alright. When and where should I sign up?"

"Now. Drink this." The student gave Murphy a clear liquid, and  Murphy drank it.

"That was the drug?"

"No, that was smallpox." For a second, that didn't register for Murphy. When it did, he screamed 'WHAT?' and tried  to attack the student, but the student gave Murphy  another vial of liquid, this time greenish.

"What, is this?" Murphy said, making sure that it wasn't the Black Plague or something.

"The antibiotic. Bottoms up." Murphy drank it, and felt nothing.

"What now?" he asked.

"We wait and see if you drop dead." 

The End

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