The Pony Express had seen strange cargo, but nothing was as weird as what was happening to Jimmy.

Curly, the captain, watched from the door of the washroom, arms crossed. “Well, looks like karma finally punched you in the teeth.”

Daisuke peeked in, grimacing. “Literally. His teeth are falling out.”

Jimmy lay on the cold floor, skin blotchy, foaming at the mouth like a malfunctioning espresso machine. “Help m—” he began, but he hiccupped so hard, he slammed his head into the sink.

Anya, the only woman on the crew, stood off to the side, silent but oddly satisfied. Swansea took a swig from his flask. “Y’know, I usually don’t enjoy watching someone suffer, but... Jimmy? I’ll drink to this.”

Jimmy struggled to get words out. “It’s the water,” he managed, pointing an accusing finger at the crew. “You did this!”

Curly raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we did this? Not you, the guy who poisoned the filters? Not you, the guy who drank the same water?”

Jimmy gagged again. “I’M DYING.”

Daisuke checked his pulse. “Nah, you’re fine. Just suffering.”

“Horribly,” Swansea added.

Anya smiled, just a little.

Jimmy twitched, his body failing him. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Curly slapped him on the shoulder. “Buddy, for the rest of us? It’s Christmas.”

With that, they closed the door, leaving Jimmy to suffer in his own mess.

The Pony Express flew on, lighter and freer than before—because for once, the universe got something right.