Susan was always the loudest voice in the room. At every family gathering, she had a hot take, usually accompanied by dramatic hand gestures and articles from dubious websites.
But her favorite topic, hands down, was the COVID vaccine.
It started at Thanksgiving. As the turkey was being carved, Susan leaned back in her chair and announced, “You know, the vaccine killed more people than the virus itself.”
The room went silent. Her cousin Mark, a nurse, visibly winced. “That’s not true, Susan,” he said calmly.
“Oh, it’s true,” Susan replied, pulling out her phone. “I read this article—very credible—about how hospitals are covering up all the deaths. They don’t want you to know!”
Mark sighed. “Susan, I work in a hospital. That’s not happening.”
“Well, of course you’d say that,” Susan shot back, narrowing her eyes. “You’re part of the system.”
The rest of the family tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Susan was unstoppable. When dessert arrived, she leaned toward her aunt, who was enjoying a slice of pumpkin pie, and said, “Did you know most pumpkin is actually squash? It’s just another thing they lie to us about.”
“Susan,” Aunt Carol said flatly, “can we stick to one conspiracy at a time?”
At Christmas, Susan doubled down. “I’ve been doing research,” she announced, holding up a binder full of printed articles. “There’s a pattern. People get the vaccine, and then suddenly they’re gone. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
“Mom, you’re scaring Grandma,” said Susan’s daughter, who was trying to keep the peace.
“I’m just speaking the truth!” Susan replied, waving her binder. “If people don’t want to hear it, that’s on them.”
By New Year’s, Susan’s brother had devised a strategy. When Susan began her usual speech about how the vaccine was worse than the virus, he interrupted her. “Susan, did you know the government controls the weather?”
She paused, mid-rant. “What?”
“Oh yeah,” he said with mock seriousness. “They’ve got machines for it. Clouds, rain, snow—you name it. Completely fabricated.”
For the first time, Susan was speechless. “That… actually makes sense,” she said, her wheels turning.
As Susan launched into her newfound weather-control theory, her brother leaned over to Mark and whispered, “You’re welcome.”
“Genius,” Mark replied, grinning. “We’ve finally found a distraction for her.”
And for the rest of the evening, Susan happily explored her new favorite conspiracy, blissfully unaware that everyone else was enjoying the silence.
Contrariot.com 